


More Like Home

by mykindofthing



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: Alternate Universe - The Last of Us (Video Games) Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Cordyceps Fungus (The Last of Us), Death, Gore, Graphic Description, Inspired by The Last of Us (Video Games), M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Violence, Zombie Apocalypse, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:26:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27311866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mykindofthing/pseuds/mykindofthing
Summary: In 2013, a fungal infection quickly spreads worldwide and causes mass destruction. The fungus, known as Cordyceps, preys on humankind and takes societies to the ground as it makes its hosts undergo different stages of infection.After the world has fallen apart, one question lingers to those who remained uninfected --  is there anything more to life than just surviving the outbreak?*This is my development of the Halloween prompt "zombies", based on the universe of The Last of Us.
Relationships: Frank Iero & Gerard Way, Jepha Howard/Frank Iero
Comments: 8
Kudos: 8
Collections: My Trick or Treat Romance





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you never played/don't know what The Last of Us is about, you can still follow through the story. For those who played it, much like the games, you know that's not all fun. 
> 
> Comments and feedbacks are always welcome.
> 
> Thank you [ charredlipsandsenseofpride](/users/charredlipsandsenseofpride/) and [ glassmotion](/users/glassmotion/) for beta reading and for listening to me talk so much about this.

* * *

Frank felt his lower back itching, but he wasn’t going to give in. Could you imagine how _humiliating_ it would be if a Runner came out of nowhere and he wasn’t able to tear it apart because he was scratching himself? No way, that could wait.

“All clear,” he stated, as he exited one of the library’s rooms, into a smaller one where they could rest. Katherine nodded, decocking her gun and putting it back in her backpack.

The sunlight was fading and they started settling. Frank was still restless and readied his ears in case something other than the strong wind outside caught his attention. He felt a bit like a vigilant dog.

“What you got there?” Katherine’s voice filled the room.

She sat down on a damaged couch, putting her backpack on the floor. She moaned when she layed down, closing her eyes in pure bliss.

“Damn, my feet were killing me today,” she continued. She opened one eye. “Come on, Frank, tell me what you got.”

Frank, resting against the wall, didn’t feel his proudest. “Not much,” he opened his own bag. “Two houses ago I found an old baseball bat - with a hat, may I add - , some old ammo inside a drawer and these action figures.”

He displayed two Star Wars figurines on the floor for Katherine to see it, like this was the most treasured part of his hunt. 

“Can you believe there was a time we spent loads of money on that shit? It’s just plastic.”

Frank felt kind of hurt by her words. He knew she wasn’t being mean, and he also knew these toys had no money value nowadays. If he was honest, he could barely remember the level of his interest in action figures before. He could barely even remember life before the contamination.

He had some memories, sure, but he missed having _physical_ stuff to combine with the images in his head. He missed having photograph albums, collecting vinyls, stamps, anything to anchor him when his mind was too much of a crowded place to be.

If he concentrated, he could remember places. His house back in Jersey, that sketchy bar he used to go with his friends to get shitfaced, the gigs he attended to bang his head to the music.

Jersey, getting shitfaced, gigs… None of that was possible now. He was lucky enough to be able to get music, though.

Frank took one of the figurines and silently analyzed it. There was a time where he and his friends would watch Star Wars on the movies and get popcorn. A time where he wanted to buy merch like this, but would be too broke or spending his spare money on guitars or tattoos.

“Hey,” Katherine called, a hint of guilt on her voice “they’re still cool though.”

Frank looked at her, the side of his mouth crooking upwards.

“I know, right?”

***

Gerard heard a loud bang coming from the backyard. He gripped the pistol harder in his hand and ran towards the noise.

“SHIT shit shit-”

He didn’t have time to process. He aimed and fired nonstop, trying to get the better angle not to hit Mikey, who was underneath the Runner. Mikey was trying to push it out of him, but he wasn’t succeeding .

Out of all kinds of infected, Runners were the ones Gerard hated the most. He did have enough space for hating all of them, each with a different passion.

He hated Stalkers because, being the second stage of infection, they were better at hide-and-attack than Runners. He found Clickers icky, with their bodies completely transfigured, and their damned noise to echolocate and compensate for their blindness -- that damned _click click_ \-- had the hair on his spine go up. Bloaters and Shamblers were just disgusting, being so far up on the infection stage that you could smell their ocre stench from half a mile away. What once was their human skin was now only fungus. Even never having touched them, Gerard always felt an incredible need to shower after killing them, and he wasn’t a fan of showering in the first place.

The thing about Runners, aside from them attacking in packs, was that, being the first stage of infection, they still looked partially human. The rational part of his brain knew they were a thing now, but it was still hard for him to brush off this feeling. They had a face.

Firing wasn’t his smartest move. Although this one was on his own, something that rarely happened, Gerard’s peripheral sight caught movement. They were approaching, alarmed by the sound of the gun. If they didn’t get going, soon a horde would trap them. They didn’t have enough gun power for that.

Just when Gerard was about to take it to the next level with his switchblade, the Runner collapsed. As Mikey pushed it to the floor and got back to his feet, Gerard shot another two infected that were getting closer.

Mikey grabbed their backpacks and they ran. They made their way through abandoned houses and neighborhoods, jumping fences and hiding behind rusted cars whenever, making sure the infected were left behind. Their sound was distant, but Gerard didn’t want to get his hopes up.

They remained still for a while, only listening to the chilly breeze whistling. Mikey motioned for them to go in the direction of a yellow school bus, hidden by the side of this desert street. Gerard opened the door, watching over his shoulders just in case.

“You okay?” was the first thing Gerard said when they hopped on the bus. It was empty on the inside. The bus smelled metallic, but it could be their own smell.

Mikey sat down. He shook his head but that wasn’t a clear answer.

“What does that even mean?” Gerard knelt down beside him, in the corridor.

“Dude, I’m just trying to breathe.”

“Oh.”

Gerard apologized by getting up again and finding something else to do. Which. There really wasn’t. He sat down. Checked the non-existent movement outside the dirty windows. Frisked himself - made a relief sound as he felt the weapons. Then he looked around and started wondering about staying there for a few days.

“We have to find supplies. That house had nothing worthwhile,” Gerard said conversationally.

“Yeah.”

“I still can’t believe we had the bad luck of coming across those Hunters,” he complained again, unable to let it go. “I swear to god, if I come across another one again, I’ll take them down like a dog with my own hands.”

“Yeah, right,” Mikey was smiling.

They fell silent for another couple of minutes. Mikey sniffed.

“Come here.”

Gerard obliged. He was already making plans of torturing a Hunter for the theft and the violence. He could still feel the bruises from encountering them, but Gerard couldn’t deny their luck of coming out of that alive. Up until that point he had neutral feelings about them - Gerard had heard about Hunters overthrowing the military and all that shit. He didn’t know where along the way they decided robbing and hurting civilians was their MO as well.

Right and wrong were long forgotten concepts now.

Gerard sat down across Mikey’s seat. That’s when he saw it.

The red circle, intense on his pale wrist. Mikey wasn’t hiding it, but Gerard could see in his face he didn’t know what to say. That was a first.

Gerard’s mouth hung open.“Did it--? Is that--?”

Mikey nodded, his head down. Gerard’s vision got blurred.

“No!” Gerard threw himself on the aisle, knees first. “No no no, are you sure,” he urgently tried to touch Mikey’s wrist with his gloved hand. The tears were flowing down his cheeks now. “That can’t be it, it just can’t--”

“Gerard,” Mikey’s steady voice snapped him out of his fit. Gerard could tell it was bottled up with something - frustration, anger, tiredness -, but it was so _present_ at the same time. He had always envied that in Mikey. “There’s nothing we can do now. I got bitten and it’s a matter of days or hours until it kicks in.”

Saying that made things real even for Mikey. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he continued, a lump on his throat.

“I can’t go on. I will never forgive myself if I ever hurt you, so it’s better if-- if you just--”

“I won’t _leave_ you.”

“Yes, you will. We can’t have this argument, Gerard.”

Gerard touched Mikey’s hands splashed on his lap.

“I can’t-- I can’t go on without you,” he pleaded. “You know that, don’t you.”

“You can and you will,” Mikey said, his red eyes meeting Gerard’s matching ones. His lower lip quivered for a split second.

Gerard stared at the floor. It was unfair of Mikey to order him around like that. _He_ was the big brother, _he_ was supposed to make the decisions and keep Mikey safe. But he had failed that. Now nothing else made any sense.

How was he supposed to go on without the one person that made things hurt less?

Gerard sighed, feeling more tears trying to come up, but fighting the urge to sob. He wanted to punch things. Instead, he just hid his face in his hands. Maybe this was one of these situations that seemed like a dead-end, but in reality-

“I’m not sure I want to… become fully infected, though,” Mikey’s voice was barely above a whisper.

“What do you mean?”

“Would you. Would you shortcut it for me?”

“What do you mean?”

Mikey glared at him.

“ _Mikey_.” Gerard’s brow furrowed as he got up, disgusted by the idea. “What the hell, I’m not gonna do that. You can’t ask me that!”

Mikey hugged his bitten arm.

“I don’t wanna become one of them. I don’t wanna be part of it. Hurt people. Wander around like a walking disease.”

That was it. Gerard felt like a jellyfish was creeping on his chest, stinging his lungs and his heart. He lunged forward and hugged Mikey, both hiding faces on each other’s necks. It hurt to breathe.

Mikey let the tears stream to the tip of his nose and on Gerard’s skin. He smelled his brother, hoping to imprint Gerard on his still human pores. Mikey’s mind travelled to easier times. The smell of a batch of home baked cookies their mom would bring them. The smell of a cheap shampoo he threw on Gerard’s hair to make him bathe, for their relationships’ sake. The smell of the sea when they had gone to a beach and Mikey had confessed his addictions problems.

Gerard’s memory took him to countless hugs they had shared. People would always say they were a lot in each other’s space and that was true. In seconds, Gerard remembered the times they shared beds as kids. Times where Mikey would pet his hair, making fun of it. And also that time where they held hands on a beach, watching the sun set, admitting flaws to each other and promising not to get intoxicated anymore - because they wanted to live.

All of that didn’t seem only like distant memories. They felt like a different life.

“I don’t wanna leave,” Mikey whispered. Gerard shook his head and tightened his grip a bit. “But I have to. Please don’t give up on living without me.”

None of them said anything for what felt like ages. Gerard kept rubbing his hand on Mikey’s upper back.

“I-”

“I’ll be with mom and dad. Looking out for you,” He sniffed. “You can’t go without avenging those Hunters, right?”

They broke apart, Gerard wearing a sad smile. “I guess.”

They kept quiet. Mikey took Gerard’s hand in his, searching for his eyes because he wanted a confirmation. His request pierced through Gerard's soul. Gerard nodded.

Against their wishes, the bus got dark fast. Soon they arranged themselves in opposite seats, safely curled under their respective windows, out of sight to the world. The seat cushions were the most comfortable spot they had found in days.

***

Frank stretched himself and grunted. Katherine was already up.

“Morning, sunshine,” she said, putting her hair on a ponytail while she walked around the room cautiously.

The sun was already up, filling the room with its light. The thunderstorm seemed to have ended and Frank could even hear birds. He got up and mumbled something in response to Katherine, who rolled her eyes, smiling.

“You’re really not a morning person, are you.”

“Never,” he shrugged and straightened his clothes. “Let’s get going, I just wanna shower.”

They cautiously scanned the library again. Although it was highly unlikely for an infected to have broken into it, as they had checked all possible entrances before sleeping peacefully, there wasn’t such a thing as being too careful. Being too confident about your safety, on the other hand, was one of the things that could kill you.

Frank knew this area like the back of his hand, and so did Katherine. So did all the patrolling people of their settlement. And though they had a good and working monitoring system of their outskirts, he never really allowed himself to relax.

Katherine and Frank made it back to their horses once they realized all was good. Frank patted Cookie on her crest, greeting her with a much sweeter voice he gave Katherine.

“You’re such a prick,” she muttered, mounting her horse.

“I heard that.”

“I wanted you to,” she said, leading the way.

Frank smiled. They left the checkpoint, towards their settlement, Jackson County.

As she led them, Frank allowed himself to look around, observe the woods on their way back, the gun poking his hips reminding him to do it carefully.

They strode under the morning sun, light gleaming through the wet trees. The wind was whispering cool, not as strong as it had been the night before. The horses crossed streaks of crystalline water that carried loads of leaves and branches.

For a split second, Frank took in all that beauty. If they still had cable tv or those tv specials about weather and wildlife, Frank’s sure they’d be filming Wyoming right now.

Frank wasn't a fan of silver linings, but there wasn’t denying in how nature had thrived under their doom. He wasn’t sure if there was such a thing as a God, because if he did, how had he allowed all of that to happen, but he got doubtful from time to time. Especially looking at nature. Especially when he thought about still being alive.

Yeah, okay, they had to hunt for food, deal with robbers and the complications of killing walking mushrooms. It wasn’t and it had never felt like paradise. He knew it would never feel this way.

His thoughts were probably too loud, because Katherine looked over her shoulders and smiled when she saw him patting Cookie’s neck. She knew they were communicating.

“You know you’re not allowed to have a favorite, Frank.”

He answered with a pointed look, because she was right. Tommy made sure they took a different horse every time they patrolled. But Frank couldn’t help it, Cookie was sweet and attentive. She had the best intuition for places packed with Clickers.

Back in the settlement, Frank would brush all the horses when he needed to, but he would treat her with a hidden snack every now and then. Of course Tommy didn’t know.

Soon the county’s borders appeared on the horizon. As they approached the high gates, Frank felt like weights were lifted from his shoulders. After all this time living here, departing would always be accompanied by a prayer, hoping he would get the chance to come back.

The settlement, built years ago by Tommy’s wife Maria and her father, was his home. It gave its people this sense of normalcy and security - a society, almost. Frank knew firsthand building this was complex. Not the physical part, the part where they had to deal with people’s fears and desires. 

Of course the physicalities were in their advantage. They were in a good location, with a hydroelectric dam nearby to power up their houses and establishments. Animals were plentiful in that area for them to hunt and they had warehouses and greenhouses to add in their food supply. They even had bars and a cemetery inside Jackson County.

Jackson had been attacked by bandits a few times, but all in all, during these years, they had remained strong.

Still, crossing the borders was always risky.

“Let me take care of this,” Frank offered to take Katherine’s reins as she landed softly on the ground when they reached the stables.

“You’re a sweetheart. I’m still telling Tommy,” she teased, before thanking him and leaving.

“She won’t do it,” Frank reassured Cookie.

Both Cookie and Cinnamon went obediently to their stalls. He cleaned them and gave them fruits. As he watched them eat, he sighed.

Everytime he crossed borders, he feared losing this. What he could say, he got used to having a somewhat normal life.

***

“Do you remember that time mom walked in on you wearing her make up?” Mikey prompted, smiling. He was laying on his back. Across the aisle, Gerard watched him, seated.

“Do you remember that time mom walked in on me putting make up _on you_?”

“Oh my god, she freaked out!” He said, sitting up straight and laughing.

They kept recalling tender memories to each other, talking like Mikey was moving away overseas. Mikey refused to let them use a mournful tone, but every now and then he would glance at the spot in his arm and lose track of what he was doing for a few seconds. Gerard couldn’t read his face and Mikey wouldn’t share.

“I never told you this before, but remember how aunt Valerie would always lock her china when we would come over?”

It took a moment for Gerard to agree.

“Well, I broke some of them once and I blamed it on you.” Mikey said, half apologizing, half amused with Gerard’s wide eyes. “You were so obsessed with the china’s patterns, I wanted to take a look. I guess my hands were sweaty-”

“Mikey, she almost _banned me_ from her house and it was _your fault_. Those were her _babies_! You fucker!”

“I’m sorryyyy.”

“No,” Gerard said, still disbelievingly.

“Come on, forgive me, it’s my last, dying wish.”

It was supposed to be a joke, but things shifted. Gerard swallowed.

“Sorry,” Mikey repeated, this time meaning it.

“It’s okay.” It wasn’t. “Of course I forgive you.”

They exchanged a silent agreement. Mikey said he was tired, he needed to go to sleep. Gerard felt exhausted too, but before they drifted to sleep, he got up and gave Mikey a hug. He felt this sudden urge of tucking him to sleep, though it wasn’t possible.

Gerard used his arm as a pillow and waited until Mikey’s breathing buzzed steadily before letting the tears come. He didn’t want to sleep. He wanted to spend the most time he could with his living brother. He wanted them to recount the stories and detail secrets they shared.

After fighting drowsiness the most he could, he finally fell asleep. He dreamed about a dark-haired girl with uneven bangs. She gave him her hand and they walked around green fields. He felt peaceful. He gave her a piggyback ride and her energy was contagious.

When the dream started bursting out at the seams, his body slowly woke him up. As consciousness crept in, Gerard searched for words to tell Mikey about it. Maybe he would know what that meant. When he opened his eyes, all that flew out of the bus.

He retracted his body against the window and covered his lips just in time not to shriek. Mikey’s face was fully discolored. His bitten arm too, but the opposite hand didn’t look undead. His jaw was slacking to the side, like it had been cracked from a rocking hard punch. His once hazel eyes were becoming ghostly white.

This wasn’t his brother anymore.

He has an infected body, still, not moving like a Runner. In fact, he wasn’t moving at all, except for spasms he’d produce here and there. Gerard didn’t know what that was about. He had never seen them turning personally.

_Would you shortcut it for me?_

He slowly moved his hand to the switchblade on the inside of his jacket. It was moving at its own accord, his brain wasn’t following. The rational part in him was still hanging onto the fact that they slept being two brothers on the bus and woke up to just one.

Gerard’s fingers laced the handle. He sat straighter, careful not to be noisy.

_I don’t wanna hurt people._

What if Gerard just locked him here and he never got to hurt anyone? He wouldn’t be allowing Mikey to have become that. In a way, he would have kept his promise.

He heard a crack - Mikey’s jaw cracking. Like it was preparing to have bigger meals. This time, Gerard jumped just a little bit, making the seat squeak.

Then it all happened fast.

The infected turned its pale, greenish face towards Gerard. It got up quickly, groaning with a faint of Mikey’s real voice, and Gerard’s face crunched as he also got to his feet, blade in hand.

The infected hesitated for a second, then lunged forward. From this point on, Gerard felt detached. His arms shielding him didn’t feel his, nor did his legs taking him. He leapt on Mikey-- the infected and plunged the blade somewhere above his throat. The creature stumbled backwards and Gerard invested his body weight one more time to take it to the floor. He could see it was confused, but he couldn’t count on Mikey being in there, somewhere, to control it.

As the undead fell down, it made a high-pitched noise-- and there it was, a vague memory of Mikey’s voice again.

“No,” Gerard took the blade out of him, shaky. “Shut up,” He pierced its throat. “SHUT. UP.”

The Runner snarled under him.

His arms staggered to every word and blood flowed in Gerard’s arms. His crimson fingers slid and he held the blade tighter.

“I said shut it!”

Underneath him, the infected’s struggle started to give out. There was blood pooling around its head.

Gerard kept going. He wanted to get rid of it, take it out of his brother’s body, this shadow of a disease that had taken so much he loved.

“Go away,” he finally whispered, the body motionless under him.

Everything was silent. His chest hurt and his tongue felt dry and uncomfortable, like he had sand in his mouth. Air got out of his mouth in puffs. The fog started to vanish from his sight, slowly. He started seeing colors again and the first one that popped out was red.

All over his hands and up his wrists. Splashed on his shirt and on the bus floor. All over that body that once belonged to-

Gerard’s eyes widened.

“ _What the f--_ ” he got up startled, looking all over the place for answers or for someone to tell him. Tell him that was not real. He walked backwards to the back part of the bus, staring at the body on the front, looking for cameras or to find an explanation. “I didn’t-”

His head hit the back door. The body never moved. Gerard’s stomach clenched, the acid making its way to his throat. He bent over and threw up, tearing up again, the salty tears mixed with bile.

“‘m sorry,” was the first thing he said out loud when his voice returned to him.

He used his jacket’s sleeve to clean up his lips and he sat down on the closest seat. Gerard covered his face and muffled his screams with the heels of his hands. He didn’t want to see it again. He couldn’t believe he had done that. He had never felt so much hate for something he couldn’t name like he did right now.

***

Frank put his action figures near his bathroom mirror. He took a step back and smiled a little. His one-dorm house had stuff he picked from patrolling all over the place.

He had pinned posters near his working station, a collection of translucent cards from movie characters on his bedside table, and vinyls on his living room (though he couldn’t listen to them, he was still fixing the stereo). And now he had action figures in his bathroom.

He didn’t care if anyone found them silly, he was past the time for caring about it now. If he came across something that made him twitch on the inside, the good kind of twitch, he would take it back to the county with him. As long as they weren’t heavy.

Bringing stuff from patrolling and decorating his place or fixing them made him feel human again. He hasn’t always been a handyman, but that occupied him and got his mind excited. Like the first time he fixed a guitar and decided where to hang it. And the first time he took it out of the wall and played to no one, on his porch, into the night. He would never forget the way his knuckles burned to the familiar feeling.

Frank had just taken off his shirt, smiling to himself and his new toys, when somebody knocked on his door. He peaked on his curtain and sighed, rubbing his eyes. A second later, he opened the door without putting the shirt back.

“Hey,” Jepha greeted him, barely closing the door before sealing Frank’s lips with his own. “Didn’t know you were back from patrolling.”

“Yeah, I arrived just now.”

“I was worried about you,” he said, still kissing Frank, this time on his neck. “I never sleep well when you don’t come back.”

Frank smiled at the ceiling.

“I’m sorry, I know. Katherine and I got trapped in the storm.”

Jepha embraced him, palming over his naked chest. “So--”

“Hey, hey,” Frank took a step back. “I’m still kinda tired. I was hoping I could nap before… heading to the greenhouse. I had a shitty night of sleep.”

“Oh. I could use a nap with you.”

Frank refrained from rolling his eyes.

“No, I mean. I’d like to be alone for a while. If you don’t mind,” he added quickly when he saw Jepha’s disappointed expression. Jepha pouted his lips like the drama queen he was, but Frank didn’t falter. It wasn’t like he was going anywhere. “I’ll see you at Ray’s tonight.”

Jepha seemed convinced, and planted a kiss on Frank’s forehead before leaving, closing the door behind him.

Frank just wanted to shower.

***

Gerard finally found strength to leave the bus, opening the emergency back door.

He didn’t have a plan anymore. Not that he and Mikey had a whole strategy sorted out, but now he could go anywhere by himself and he didn’t know what to do with all the possibilities. He would have hid on the bus for a few days if it wasn’t for that incident. Discarding the body would have been risky and drawn unwanted attention. The work was not worth it.

Gerard collected Mikey’s weapons and ammunition and took two pins out of Mikey’s backpack to put it on his own. He said goodbye under his breath and closed the door.

For the following days, he hiked through abandoned houses and buildings. He started taking the highway out of the city when he found a store that seemed somewhat safe. Most of their shelves were empty or useless, but the windows were greyish enough that he couldn’t be seen from the street.

During the day, Gerard explored the area for food and he found some canned soup in truck stops nearby. Before it got dark, he would get back to ensure he didn’t have any company.

It was his third day sleeping under the break room table, when Mikey's pin on his backpack poked behind his ear.

“Stop doing that,” he asked, circling the Radiohead pin.

Gerard sighed, the feelings creeping out of layers of survival. Nudging these memories meant bringing his parents in it too.

He felt his guts burn to the thought there was no such a thing as funerals for your loved ones. Instead, what he had was mourning for their parents, and then moving on with Mikey, to find a new settlement to live.

All four of them had lived in a quarantine zone, run by the Federal Disaster Response Agency. That had felt safe for a while - not only because his father was part of FEDRA, but because they seemed to have protocols to keep the infected out of their perimeter.

As time went by, it became clear to Gerard they had limited tactics. “Of course they have,” Mikey had said, rolling his eyes. “No one has instructions on how to deal with this.”

That was partly a lie, because FEDRA had figured stuff out by now. What bothered Gerard the most, and most people in the zone, was that their uniforms were an excuse to be brutal with civilians for no apparent reason. Curfew hours got tougher, the soldiers were getting more aggressive when asking for health credentials. Gerard himself got punched once for taking too long to show his food ration cards. His father had gotten so mad about that.

So when counterattack groups arose, such as the Fireflies, Gerard kept it a secret how they brought him hope. Rumor had it the Fireflies had access to guns and had outnumbered the military in some cities, helping citizens overthrow FEDRA. The word out there was that their main objective was to find a vaccine, something FEDRA was failing to do because apparently bureaucracy still had its toll inside their institution.

Whenever the subject Fireflies would come up though, his parents would claim they were reckless rioters.

“It doesn’t matter what you say,” Mikey had said one evening Gerard and his father argued over it. They had heard about cities in the Tri-State area where the Fireflies had taken over and things seemed to be looking up. There was a silent promise in the air that they were approaching their area. “They won’t listen, not while dad is part of the FEDRA. This is as close as they can get from a government.”

“ _There is no government, Mikes._ ”

“Listen, I’m with you on this. And I don’t trust the Agency,” Mikey sat down by their table and massaged his temple. “But mom and dad are from another generation. Maybe it’s their way of coping. You won’t be able to convince them.”

Gerard nodded, sitting beside Mikey.

“What if they get here?”

“I don’t know. People are getting antsy.”

Something didn’t sit right on Gerard’s gut about it. He wanted the Fireflies to get there and he was sick of FEDRA’s methods. But he didn’t know what that meant for his father, and the Fireflies weren't an unanimity among civilians. This could get shaky.

When the Fireflies eventually got there, it was all very confusing. Gerard didn’t know how it had started, he just knew it was on the inside out. He had heard in the past the zone had secret passageways in and out, but that was as far as his knowledge would go. Apparently the Fireflies knew about them too. They had infiltrated the settlement and coordinated attacks.

Explosions happened somewhere near the headquarters, but Donald’s radio was what confirmed the events. He rushed the whole family to pack important stuff for them to get going. Gerard was still processing it when Donald claimed he knew a route out.

“We’re fleeing? I thought we were hiding somewhere-”

“I’m not giving the anarchists a chance. If you want to, suit yourself. I’m taking your mother,” Don barked.

Gerard and Mikey exchanged defeated looks. Shots and more explosions could be heard as they followed Don’s lead. There were corpses on the ground, some wearing uniforms, some not. A feminine voice echoed on the streets.

_“Attention. Curfew is now in full effect. Anyone caught outside without proper authorization will be arrested and prosecuted.”_

A large cloud of smoke could be seen meters away, and they walked past military trucks and people collecting bricks. Inside quarantine zones, FEDRA soldiers were the only ones allowed guns.

And now the Fireflies were too.

Don led them to the outskirts of the headquarters to access the escape and instructed them - they needed to cross a bridge near it and infiltrate a seemingly abandoned building. His radio kept buzzing, but he ignored it.

Another explosion happened. This one, closer to them. The Way family fell to the floor, Mikey throwing himself over his mother. Nothing hit them, but glass flew in their direction.

“Come on, we gotta go,” Don said, breathing fast.

This time, the sense of urgency was palpable. They ran just a few more meters before shots were heard. They ducked once more.

_“Attention. Harboring or aiding criminals is punishable by death. Report any suspicious activity immediately.”_

They kept lurking until they hit the bridge. Gerard could feel his pulse pumping.

“Donna, I’m taking you first across those fences over there. Mikey and Gee, you wait here.”

“Why can’t we follow you?” Gerard pressured, as the noise of shots started again. He flinched.

“Wait up, I said. It’s safer this way. Once in the building, we’ll go through it together again.”

He knew Don was impatient, but it bothered Gerard that he was being talked to like a bratty child. Gerard nodded.

He and Mikey watched as his parents hid out onto the next spot. And onto the next. Don signaled to where they were going next when they hid beside a rusty car.

Back at the store, Gerard closed his eyes. The memory came in all colors.

His parents getting to the fence. And two people with their faces covered, coming out of the bushes, pointing guns at them. Gerard’s heartbeat arose and he clenched fingers on Mikey’s clothes. Gerard didn’t hear the request, but he saw Don take out his FEDRA credentials. And he saw it fly out of his hands and hit the floor, as both of them were taken down.

Gerard clenched his fist around the pin. If it weren’t for Mikey, he might have screamed right there on the bridge and who knows what could have happened to them.

So much for having hope. And here he was, on the run again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you [ charredlipsandsenseofpride](/users/charredlipsandsenseofpride/), [ glassmotion](/users/glassmotion/) and [ achemicalmess](/users/achemicalmess/) for beta reading and being so patient with me.

* * *

Frank couldn’t help but grin when Jepha reached him with drinks in hand. Frank took a blissful gulp, watching the couples dance to the country-ish music. As soon as he put down the empty glass on the counter behind them, Jepha kissed him.

Frank smiled and Jepha turned to the saloon, sipping his own drink. Frank observed him for a second - his throat moving as he gulped, his moustache, his long caramel hair hidden by a beanie. Jepha constantly had his brow creased, as if he was worrying or trying to be intimidating, Frank couldn’t tell which. Not that Jepha needed that, with all his height and tattooed neck and arms. He somehow managed to have more tattoos displayed than Frank and he was known for being strong. He could be threatening if he wanted to.

Aside from being well built, Jepha was skilled with bows and arrows. When Frank saw him using those while they patrolled for the first time, he got turned on. He would never admit that out loud, though. It seemed wrong, getting attracted to someone while they striked mindless creatures from a distance.

Until that point, they had never exchanged more than a few words. Jepha was a silent kind of guy and he was seen hanging out only with a handful of people. He seemed like an introvert, which made it difficult for Frank to assume if he was into guys or not. Frank honestly thought he wouldn’t stand a chance. 

During their duties, Jepha wouldn’t talk much either, except for directions. It had gotten to a point Frank wondered if Jepha had a problem with him.

One day, when they came back, Frank confronted him.

“Why don’t we talk about that over Ray’s. Let me get you a drink,” Jepha had answered, leaving Frank puzzled.

“No, come on, I just want you to be honest with me. Do you want to change shifts? Partner up with someone else? I’m okay with that, as long as you’re upfront about it.”

Jepha had gazed at him.

“I want to take you on a date.”

“You _what now_? Is this some kind of joke?” Frank looked around to check if someone was having a laugh on his behalf.

“No, of course not. I’ve been thinking about how I could ask you.” Jepha’s mouth twitched. He looked somewhere below Frank’s chin. “Sometimes I get distracted during patrol. Because of you.”

Frank had blushed a little, breaking eye contact. When Jepha looked like he was expecting an answer, Frank went on tentatively. “How would you even take me on a date here?”

Jepha had spread his arms.

“We can figure it out right now if you want to.”

Right after their relationship became known, Maria instructed them not to patrol together anymore. According to her, it would “bring stress to the couple”, but Frank knew she meant couples got stupid. Jackson’s security depended on serious monitoring, they couldn’t play with that shit. 

They had been committed for months now. Their relationship wasn’t bad; it just had gotten boring.

Frank’s passion had faded away. He started getting annoyed by stuff that didn’t bother him before. Silly things like leaving equipment all over or not cleaning his boots before entering the house.

On the other hand, he liked their talks; he had gotten used to having someone to share his thoughts and worries, and that was valuable here. He liked having Jeph’s company and knowing Jepha would listen to details of his reports. He liked that Jepha would help him fix his stereo. But if it was up to Frank, they would see each other less frequently.

He started wondering if Jepha was more his friend than a lover at this moment. He didn’t know how Jepha would take that, because he seemed pretty in love still. It was unbalanced - Frank wasn’t in it anymore. He didn’t even feel too keen on kissing or fucking him.

He was slowly trying to build the courage to have the conversation with him. He often turned to Ray for advice.

Ray, who was responsible for this saloon, was one of the most earnest people in Jackson County. He always had a smile on his face and kind words to offer. He wasn’t one to sugar coat anything, though. Ray was sincere when he needed to.

Tonight, Ray was watching both of them behind the counter, looking significantly to Frank before getting somebody else’s order. It was enough for Frank to feel like it was their time.

When they got back to Frank’s place, Frank was determined the time was now. But Jepha had a drink too many and passed out almost as soon as he got there. Frank laid down beside him.

“Soon,” he said to himself, staring at the ceiling.

***

In front of Gerard was what once had been a huge shopping mall. Its welcoming billboard was unreadable and it hung eerily back and forth. Its windows were either cracked or dirty, and greenery had crept over the concrete structure, going up until the glass ceiling. Not much sunlight could penetrate the place, leaving it to have a moldy, humid atmosphere.

Gerard walked around the forgotten stores on the first floor with his pistol in hands. Somewhere behind him he could hear water dripping. He squinted to see outlines in the dark, then he remembered he had a flashlight.

He knew it was risky of him to explore such a big place by himself and he was scared. Nevertheless, he needed to find food and maybe a place to rest. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was going, but he kept walking anyway.

Gerard got into an abandoned pharmacy. He searched around for medical supplies. Maybe he could get vitamins here somewhere.

_Click click. Click click._

Gerard’s heartbeat got faster and, without second thought, he threw himself behind a counter. He soothed himself by exhaling through his mouth. It wasn’t running into a Clicker that scared him, as much as it was the claustrophobic feeling. Clickers were stronger than Runners and Stalkers, and he didn’t have anyone to ask for help if things went south.

His eyes appeared over the edge of the counter to see where exactly the Clicker was. Gerard could shoot it, but others could listen and run to get him. The Clicker was walking aimlessly around the store, making its hideous noise not to bump into the broken shelves. It was right on the doorway. The other double door entrance was blocked by shelves on the floor.

Gerard crouched his way to some products on the floor. Clickers were blind, but crouching made him less prone to knocking things over and drawing attention. Gerard collected a few heavy items and tossed them in the blocked entrance’s direction . direction of the blocked entrance.

The Clicker ran that way. Gerard took out of his backpack the biggest blade he had and sneaked quickly behind him. He then gripped the Clicker from behind.

The creature made a high pitched noise and tried reaching him with its arms bent backwards. Gerard dodged from its grasp and attempted to pierce it. Fighting his way over, Gerard found the angle to pull its textured face to one side and jabbed its neck.

The Clicker pitched higher and gave out, struggling on the floor. Gerard, arms soaked in blood, looked around but apparently there weren’t any more infected nearby.

He examined the place and found medicine on the storage, before leaving and walking up the dirty escalators.

The second floor was darker, and it slowed him down. He pointed his flashlight mostly to the floor, so he could watch his step and not accidently flash creatures that could see him. Though Runners and Stalkers prefered open spaces, he still wanted to be careful.

He got in a sports store next. He lit the hangers, holding his flashlight at chest’s height. He was analyzing hiking gear when he heard more Clickers coming from the back of the store. Gerard clutched a hiking stick with his free hand just as he caught movement of infected outside too.

“ _Shit_ ”, he muttered, hunching behind the old mannequins.

He resorted again to throwing objects as further as he could to create distraction. But once they couldn’t get him, the Clickers quickly started spreading out. Even as Gerard misdirected them, there were a few that wouldn’t leave the passageway. He kept bent, moving from behind mannequins to shelves, then cardboard displays, his flashlight on.

One of them came right behind him and Gerard ran just in time to get a dumbbell and stun him. Others were coming, cornering his space and barking to try to find him with their wave sounds. Gerard squatted again, not to be located.

That’s when glass broke to his left and fire lit up the room. Clickers screamed and collapsed on the floor, burning.

“What-”

This human figure popped up, breaking the rest of the glass away and hitting one Clicker that came running in his direction with an axe. Soon others ran to the guy as well. Gerard got up and impaled the closest infected from behind with the walking stick. The Clicker faltered and fell.

Gerard took out his pistol and shot another one and another one.

“Move!” the guy shouted, retreating from the same spot he entered. Gerard followed.

They ran through the corridors, Gerard lighting the way, and the guy gripped his hand as he opened a side door. Gerard closed the heavy door behind him and was finally able to see the guy’s face.

He had a full blonde beard and piercing blue eyes. He was bigger than Gerard and seemed older too. They exchanged looks, listening closely to the door. Gerard didn’t hesitate to whisper to him, “Thank you for saving my ass.”

The guy just stared at him - didn’t smile, didn’t seem annoyed, just analyzed Gerard for a bit. Gerard was starting to regret having said something.

“I’m going to get the fuck out of here. I know a way out.”

Gerard didn’t understand if that meant he was welcome to join him to get out of the mall or if he should get lost, but he nodded anyway. The blond guy motioned with his head in the direction they should go, axe still in hand, and Gerard breathed, relieved.

While they walked through the narrow corridor, the guy also took out a flashlight. Gerard kept looking over his shoulder until he realized it - he didn’t know this guy, where he came from and where he was taking him. What if he was a cannibalist or something? Gerard had heard about those.

Suddenly he felt like an idiot. If he was a cannibal, Gerard had been too naive to simply follow his instructions, when the guy had saved him to prepare him as a meal. If he wasn’t, he would feel guilty for pondering this option in the first place.

Well, it wasn’t like he could blindly trust anyone.

“What’s your name?” he asked in a low voice when they took a turn. The walls were looking slightly mildewed.

“Bob. Yours?” He answered, still looking ahead. His voice had a hard tone and Gerard felt like he was an inconvenient event to Bob.

“Gerard.” He regretted a second later giving him his real name. Bob sounded like a fake name. Should he care anyway? He could be walking to his death this minute. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what, help you?” Bob glanced briefly over his shoulder before standing against a red thick door, but not quite opening it. “I don’t know. I saw you walking in by yourself. Figured you weren’t a Hunter, ‘cause they walk in packs.”

Bob opened just a crack, and peeked before walking in. He had a logic, Gerard thought, walking closely, but taking space not to get accidentally hit by his axe.

“Fair point. So you helped me out of the purity of your heart?”

“I guess. I can take that back and get out of your hair any moment now.” He had an annoyed tone. Gerard knew he came across as ungrateful, but he was just suspicious.

“No no, I’m sorry. I mean, thank you for that.”

Gerard got interrupted as they crossed two more doors and reached a fire escape. The sunlight made his eyes hurt and they stood still for a moment, getting their visions adjusted. Gerard looked as far as he could on surrounding the area, studying if it was safe to get down. He turned to Bob.

“Bob. I meant it. Thank you.”

The guy looked at him. He seemed more threatening in daylight and he could take Gerard down any minute if he wanted to. Gerard got aware of the axe on his hand.

“Yeah, you’re welcome. You helped me too.” Bob gave him a friendly nod. Gerard answered it back. “That is a cool gun.”

Was this… bonding?

“Thanks. The molotov cocktail was a cool move too.”

Bob turned his back on him briefly. “I’m gonna go that way.”

This was the first time in days he was able to use his voice to someone other than himself. Gerard didn’t expect it, but he wasn’t ready to part ways just now. Secretly, he still wanted to talk.

“Okay.”

His stomach grumbled. Apparently it also wanted to do some talking. Bob raised an eyebrow to him.

“When was the last you ate?”

Gerard rubbed his neck. Bob made a frustrated noise, adjusting the strip of his own backpack.

“Come with me.”

***

The sound of water sprinklers made Frank feel peaceful.

The greenhouse was Frank’s favorite place in Jackson. Maybe of the world. He liked being in the stables and taking care of the horses, sure, but nothing beat checking the soil, the plants, helping them grow. Harvesting them.

To him, handling people’s food - even if it was just a portion of it - was a way of paying back all Jackson County had done for him. They had not only taken care of him when he was wounded; they had restored his faith in living.

By the time Frank was rescued and taken to Jackson, Frank felt hopeless.

Before getting to the settlement, Frank had been a Firefly. Back in the day, joining them meant having a purpose. Several groups arose from the crisis, and the Fireflies were not the only one to counterattack an institution like FEDRA, but they were the strongest one, scattered across multiple settlements in what once had been the United States. The Fireflies were also the ones with the fiercest purpose of organizing a new society and finding the vaccine.

So when Frank became one of them, it made him feel alive. He finally had something bigger than simply surviving to look up to. Should they succeed on their crusade, they could save what was left of humankind.

When the outbreak happened, he got so disoriented he thought many times about taking his life away. He had lost his home, his family and friends. He knew he wasn’t alone in his loss but it still felt like a burden to walk among ruined buildings and killing creatures that once had names and dreams.

He was recruited by his friend Hambone right after he lost his mother. With Hambone in tow, he had a family again. They moved from New Jersey and it felt like a breath of fresh air. New Jersey had too many memories.

When Frank got to Pittsburgh, the sight of the Firefly symbol outside their walls welcomed him. He felt warm on the inside knowing he was with the resistance. He was on the right side of this battle, not only fighting the infection and its bodies, but also military forces who wanted to control their every move. Frank always had problems with government authorities. Growing up in Jersey, he knew the police force could be just as corrupt as the guys they were supposed to combat.

In the beginning, Hambone and Frank fought side by side. They were part of the same tactical group and Hambone was the one who gave him his Firefly pendant, with Frank’s name and id number engraved on it. For a long time, Frank kept it hung on his neck.

For a while, things in Pittsburgh went swiftly. They had people’s trust and had built a good relationship with the community, after FEDRA fled under their attack.

As time passed by, things started to get hectic. They were not having any advances on the vaccine premise. The rationed supplies made it harder to feed the growing settlement population and anxiety lingered in the air. The attacks on the enemies were more vigorous now.

FEDRA was not the only enemy anymore. Other groups of people were too - Hunters, The Washington Liberation Front, Ravens, cannibalists, or anyone that opposed their methods. There were a lot of displeased people because their medical attempts, procedures and experiments weren't getting anywhere.

Knowing how fragile they got by the day, Hunters started attacking their settlement every now and then, and Fireflies held them back.

Frank got impatient himself, uncertain if the things he was doing still had a purpose. He was assigned tasks involving bombing military checkpoints, kidnapping doctors and medical professionals from FEDRA, all in the name of producing the vaccine.

"I can’t remember anymore what we are doing. Where are we going?" he asked Hambone one day, tiredness showing in his voice. Hambone had become in charge of health security, so he always had an eye close to medical activity. Frank was still what they called a street soldier.

Hambone seemed defeated as well. "Nowhere. That promising test with the girl led us nowhere."

Playing with people's faith was tricky. The final drop that ruined it all was when another person died, under the pretense they were running tests and protocols. People started rioting. Frank was sure Hunters had something to do with it, sparking the chaos.

Hunters finally invaded their settlement and it took a lot of work for all parties not to put everything to the ground while fighting each other. At this point, Frank was so riled up he wanted to leave the Fireflies. He didn’t know if there was such a thing, though. From all the violence that ingrained in their system and all he’d seen, he could end up dead.

“You’re all a bunch of hypocrites.” A Hunter had yelled at them during a behind closed doors meeting with leaders from both factions. “You got caught up in the power play. You’ve become FEDRA.”

That remark felt like a punch in his stomach. Frank realized he hated the guy, but he had a point.

The woman leader from the Fireflies punched her fist on the table. “That’s enough. You don’t get to talk like that. We’re giving you a chance not to get killed, but there’s no dialogue this way.”

“We don’t want no dialogue, ma’am. We’re not going anywhere. You think you’re so different from the pigs, right? Then let the people decide. Let them decide if we can stay.”

In the end, they stayed, and little by little they kicked Fireflies in the shins. The tables had turned and the Hunters eliminated Fireflies from the settlement altogether.

Frank ran away to another settlement, one he thought was safer, but in a couple of months they were under another attack. This time he was beat up badly and a bullet grazed his arm as he escaped from his torturers. He got as far as he could from the conflict zone and was still able to duck away from the infected, for someone who was that hurt.

Out in the woods, he made himself a tourniquet and a makeshift sling for his arm. It still hurt on the following days, getting to the point he wondered about amputation. He got sick and dizzy with the thought of handling that himself. Maybe he should just get it all over.

Frank had just come across a museum where he planned to turn into his last shelter, when he ran into two women riding horses.

They could be any kind of people who would want him dead, but he decided to take a chance anyway. If they gunned him, at least he would have tried.

They looked suspicious of his injury, and he took off the sling and tourniquet to pour water on it. The bruise didn’t look good, but there weren’t teeth marks anywhere. The two women still exchanged concerned looks. One of them got out of the horse.

“We’ll take you. But if you so much as snarl for a millisecond, I’ll put a bullet to your forehead,” she said slowly, in an intimidating tone.

Frank agreed under her menace.

“Good,” she smiled. “You take my horse, we’ll watch you.”

He was weak but used all his will power to sit in an upright position. He would make faces every once in a while, but never a single sound to be mistaken with turning into an infected.

Frank couldn’t believe his luck. He learned they were striding back to their community after smuggling weapons from another place.

The lady that threatened him was Katherine.

“Why did you take me?” he had asked her later on, when they were safe in Jackson and Frank had bandages on. They were at Jackson's infirmary. “I could be lying to you.”

“I don’t know. Intuition told me you were being honest,” she admitted, half smiling. “Plus, I have a really good aim, I wouldn’t have trouble putting you down.”

Frank made an alarmed face.

“But seriously,” and her voice sounded a bit more collected. “We gotta take a chance every once in a while. There’s not many of us left. This may sound stupid, but if we don’t take chances in helping people, then... we might as well be running around blinded by mushrooms.”

Frank had been taken care of for a couple of days, before he got absolutely tired of resting. He couldn’t stop thanking the nurses, and Katherine as well, every time he had a chance to. Tommy and some other people would show up every once in a while to watch him from afar.

“I was a Firefly,” Frank admitted to Tommy five minutes after exchanging the first words with him. He took off his pendant, the one that he would always keep inside his drawer now, in his bedside table. Tommy’s look was unreadable. Frank was well aware this piece of information could have him killed.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Tommy’s only answer was. “Been there.”

Frank was caught off guard, and Tommy sat down next to him, scruffing his beard and looking to the ground. “What happened to you? Are you hiding?”

Frank told him all about the latter attack, and also about losing his hopes on something he once bet was a new beginning. Turned out Tommy had left for the exact same reason.

After that, he could feel the community opening up to him like a wildflower. Tommy didn’t like to think of himself of their leader - more like something of a guardian of Jackson, along with Maria -, but after he showed how he trusted Frank, other people also approached him.

As soon as he recovered, Frank got involved in all sorts of positions. He and Tommy bonded over the horses, with Tommy teaching him about them. Horses were not really Frank’s area before, but the thing about Frank was that he loved animals, and the horses grew on him. He liked taking care of the county’s dogs, but so did a lot of people, especially kids. He soon realized horses were just as special, sensitive and caring as dogs.

None of the stuff he did were as gratifying as when he started working on the greenhouse, though. He felt like the True Vegetarian he used to be before the outbreak. He also befriended the older ladies who attended the greenhouse to rummage through plants and give him their advice, since they knew so much about herbs.

He never said that to anybody, but bonding with them made him feel like he was their grandchild.

So when Jepha followed him to his sacred place, Frank kind of lost it.

“Jeph, we need to talk.”

***

They walked for a long time until they reached Bob’s hideout.

It was a small farmhouse, surrounded by metal gates and barbed wire. Three huge dogs welcomed them by the gates and from the way Bob smiled and pet them, it seemed like he saw them as cute puppies.

They surpassed the gates and reached a dirty white house. On the outside, it seemed abandoned even, except that next to its first floor window there was a message painted in red on the outside wall.

_NO TRESPASSING. I WILL SHOOT YOU._

When Bob didn’t bother to explain, Gerard froze, his pistol ready.

“You’re good, I wrote that. And I am by myself.”

It was a bold movie from Gerard to believe he wasn’t going to get seriously hurt from following someone he just met, but the promise of food drove his legs to Bob’s lead.

On the inside, the house was much neater and organized than Gerard expected. The counters were clean and there were fresh fruits on a bowl over the dinner table.

“Take a seat,” Bob said, gesturing towards a chair and placing his axe next to the door. 

Gerard sat down and looked around discreetly, putting his gun on the table. He tried not to fidget, to concentrate on Bob fixing them a meal to make sure he wouldn’t get poisoned. From there, Gerard could see some pictures hanging in the living room and his couch, with messy blankets all over. No bloodshed seemed to have happened here lately.

After a few minutes, Bob brought two instant noodle bowls, placing one in front of Gerard. Gerard barely blinked before gulping it down. “Easy,” Bob said, as he sat down across the table and started eating as well. “You’re gonna get your tongue burnt.”

Gerard put the bowl down, wiping his mouth with his hand. “Fuck yeah. I just hadn’t had one of those in a while,” he looked down at the dish. “and it’s so good.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment yet, if you were starving.”

Bob smiled at Gerard, munching his food. They didn’t exchange any other word until they both had wiped the bowls. Gerard thanked him, leaning back in the chair and patting his tummy.

“Why are you by yourself?” Bob broke the silence. He seemed genuinely curious.

“I could ask you the same,” Gerard retorted.

Gerard regretted saying that right as the words left his mouth. He sounded too sassy to someone who had been kind to him. Twice.

“I’ve been here for a while. I think I’m a loner.” Gerard stared at him disbelievingly. Bob was looking at his empty bowl. “I mean, I used to live with other people. They either left to quarantine zones or died.”

Gerard sighed. That was hitting close to home. “I’m sorry to hear about that.”

Bob shrugged. “Your turn.”

Uncomfortable, Gerard moved in his chair. “I... lost my brother.”

“Sorry to hear about that,” Bob mimicked.

They fell silent.

“Don’t you think it’s weird they called it a quarantine zone if it’s healthy people who live in it?” Bob said, like he had spent a lot of time thinking about it but only now being able to share. “Shouldn’t quarantine have happened to the infected?”

Gerard gave a small laugh. “Yeah, totally. Makes sense.”

They got quiet again. If this were pre-contamination world, he would be saying his thanks again, goodbye now and then heading to his house. Now not only he had nowhere to go, but he _wanted to stay_. The house looked cozy. Gerard could use a nap on the couch, blankets over him.

It was a house, afterall, and he hadn’t enjoyed being inside of a proper house in ages.

Bob observed Gerard for a while. He snapped him out of his thoughts suddenly. “Coffee or tea?”

Gerard didn’t hesitate. “Coffee!” Then a second later. “You have coffee?”

Bob got to his feet, smiling, and put water in a kettle.

As it turned out, Bob invited him to stay for the night. Gerard slept on the couch, and the invitation got extended when, on the following morning, Bob started making plans as to where they should hunt together.

Soon Gerard learned a few things about Bob, even if he was a close-lipped kind of guy. His hometown was Chicago and he would often use a bitter tone when mentioning the place. He had scars all over his back from escaping a group who collected humans as slaves. He hinted his kids had abandoned him.

However, aside from the shit he had experienced, he seemed sweet. He had a low-key sense of humor. It was nice having company. They shared gulps of Bob’s old whiskey when the sun set and when the sun arose, they hunted.

***

“Jeph, we need to talk.”

Jepha looked bewildered by his tone, but he angled his body like he was ready to receive whatever was coming his way. “Uh, okay.”

“Not here.” Frank put down a vase he was holding. He passed his hands through his face. “Let’s go to my place.”

Though they didn’t talk much during the walk, Frank did allow them to walk with their hands intertwined. It felt a bit wrong to him, but not doing it would be more complicated. It wasn’t like he was mad at Jepha or Jepha was a bad person.

“I don’t think I can do this anymore,” Frank promptly declared, once Jepha was comfortable on his couch.

Jepha looked confused.

“Wait. What? Why?”

Frank walked from one place to another. It felt wrong to break it up this way. He suddenly felt as if he was making a mistake.

Things got pretty lonely from time to time. Frank couldn’t deny how nice it was to sleep with somebody else’s heated body against his. Or going away knowing that someone would miss him if he died.

It was just… once this person had a face -- Jepha’s face. Now it didn’t. He didn’t care if it was him anymore. And it felt unfair to keep on doing this just to fulfill his need of being missed.

“I’m not.” _in love with you anymore_. “We’re not. We’re not in tune.” Frank settled for that, knowing this was still a dangerous path to go. He didn’t want to break Jepha’s heart. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Jepha stared at him, his frown getting deeper and waiting for him to go on. Frank sat beside him, but keeping a safe distance so as not to give him the wrong impression.

“I’m not sure what happened.”

“Did I do something?” Jepha questioned, in a small voice.

“No.”

Jepha hesitated.

“Is there somebody else?”

“No, definitely no. I’m just. Maybe…” He didn’t want to go for the classic _it’s not you, it’s me_ , though it started to feel this way. “I’m not fit for a relationship.” Sudden realization came to Frank, hitting him in the chest. His voice dropped to a sad tone. “Maybe I’m broken.”

Nobody said anything. The noise from birds and far away voices outside filled the room. Jepha got closer, and put his hand over Frank’s.

“Hey, don’t say that. We’ve been together for more than a year. I _saw_ you.” He brought Frank’s knuckles to his lips and brushed them with light kisses. “You’re not broken.”

Frank closed his eyes, ready to punch himself in the face. He could hear the sound of Jepha’s heart breaking into pieces and Jepha kept being sweet to him. Frank really didn’t deserve him.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. For some reason, saying that out loud made tears form in his eyes. He hated it, but he felt sorry for himself even. Was he not fit to receive love? On this dirty, heavy loaded reality they were now, he managed to find a caring, hot boyfriend, and he was letting it go. Was he so used to pain he couldn’t recognize the good in stuff anymore?

The tears started running down his cheeks and when Jepha saw that, he wiped one on the corner of Frank’s eye. Frank cried quietly. Jepha pulled him into a hug and Frank gripped his denim jacket.

“I’m sorry too,” Jepha’s strong voice echoed in his ear.

They untangled from each other.

“That’s some messed up shit. I’m breaking up with you and you’re consoling me.”

Jepha shrugged. “It’s a day full of surprises.”

They smiled at each other.

***

Bob and Gerard went hunting animals every other day. Gerard couldn’t take anything bigger than squirrels to save his life. Bob told him he wasn’t patient enough and was too noisy. Gerard chose not to listen because he didn’t want to admit Bob was right.

Everytime they got a bigger animal, it had been because of Bob. That didn’t bother him, though, and when they got home, Gerard was the one to skin and separate what they would use. Bob would cook them.

One day, they went further from the usual spots and checked upon an abandoned place. When they heard shots, he and Bob bowed on the bushes. They hadn’t seen any sign that there were people here and they were very thorough with that, to avoid walking into traps.

“Hunters,” Bob whispered angrily.

Gerard felt his blood boil. It was one thing being attacked by the infected - they were brainless creatures now. Another thing was being attacked by militaries - they thrived on power. And a whole different thing was being attacked by Hunters. Gerard couldn’t say they were animals; animals got ethics.

“I’m not letting them get away with it,” Gerard muttered, moving forward without waiting for Bob.

“Wha- hey, wait.”

When Bob reached him, Gerard had already turned into instructor mode.

“There can’t be many of them here. We’ll surround the warehouse and surprise them. I’ll go that way.”

Bob nodded, cocking his rifle. Bent forward, they walked their way to the warehouse, doing the least sound as possible. There were three of them; two were moving boxes around, the third was standing, holding his shotgun and watching over.

Gerard positioned himself in a side window and Bob, from a hole on the wooden wall, shot the standing guy in the head.

The shot made the other two turn and look around startled. Feeling confident, Gerard and Bob got in, but the Hunters reacted fast. The one closer to Bob kicked him and threw punches, and Bob hit him back. The other had Gerard in aim and tried shooting him - Gerard dove to the floor to dodge, but once down, he put a bullet to one’s feet. The guy staggered backwards, giving a better angle for Gerard to shoot him in the upper body.

Bob threw his body weight over the guy he was fighting and managed to push the Hunter to a pointy wooden end that spiked him in the torso. Ready to call it a win, more voices echoed in the distance. “We should go now,” he called Gerard and they collected the Hunter’s guns to their backpacks and ran.

Bob and Gerard left for the bushes nearby when they heard car engines. Soon an off-road car started to approach from behind and as the Hunters fired in their direction, Gerard swore every cuss word he knew.

“This way,” Bob called, taking a path to a thicker forest.

“We’re gonna get you and we’re gonna dine you!” One of them shouted when they abandoned the car and sprinted in their direction.

The shots were getting closer to their heads. One of the Hunters threw a bomb in their direction. Even though it didn’t take them directly, their ears rang and it disorientated them for a while. Bob and Gerard slowed down and hid behind trees, hoping it would give them an advantage. They exchanged shots, but no harm was being done to Hunters.

Gerard looked around, trying to come up with a strategy, since he was the one to put them in trouble in the first place. With all the firing back and forth, he wasn’t just coming up with anything, but they would run out of ammunition in no time.

When Gerard changed places to get a better view, an arrow pierced him on the hip and he collapsed behind a rock twice his height. Bob shouted something and, as Gerard felt the blood flowing in his clothes, he got better positioned and kept shooting.

Gerard concentrated on finding the nerve to take the arrow off, his listening skills tuned out. He put both his hand on it and started pulling, gritting through his teeth. His whole body constricted and he let go before it was all out.  
  
He didn’t see as Bob gunned the last two guys down and didn’t see his face when Bob hurriedly reached him. He just saw Bob’s hands around the arrow.

“This is gonna hurt.”

Gerard didn’t have time to react - Bob pulled it out. Gerard screamed into his fist and Bob took his jacket and pressed it against the wound.

“Come on, we gotta go. We don’t know if there are any more of them and it’s getting darker.”

They dashed through the trees, hoping to be going on the opposite way where Hunters could be.

“Shit,” Bob grunted as he saw a horde of infected getting out of the bushes.

Gerard made an effort to run faster, pressing one hand to his hip, his pants soaking. They reached a property just as the Stalkers’ grunting got closer. Praying for it to be unoccupied, Bob jumped over a gate and pulled Gerard when he tentatively boosted himself up.

After getting to the other side, they realized the space between the fences and the wall was narrow and it was filled with boxes all around. Bob led the way and they crammed themselves as fast as they could.

The Stalkers got to the gates, screaming and pushing the barrier against Bob and Gerard’s body. Their hands were clawing through holes.

“Fuck,” Gerard yelled, kicking them.

Bob took out his axe and slit the closest clammy hands, blood gushing on the floor and on the gates. The Stalkers’ strength in shoving them made it impossible for Gerard to reach the weapons in his bag and help too.

Two infected trespassed a whole in the fences and that was enough for the others to push their way and squish Bob and Gerard against the wall.

“That’s it,” Gerard thought, doing his best to boot them and avoid getting bitten. “That’s the end.”

Fire burst out in front of them. Not fire cocktail-molotov-fire. A wave of it, that made Gerard wonder for a moment if dragons were real.

Gerard frowned as the infected squeaked, incinerated, though in reality it was music to his ears.

“Come on!” A guy on a horse, in front of them, shouted.

The guy gave his homemade flamethrower to a woman beside him, also riding a horse. She ran around with it, catching more Stalkers, as the guy got off the horse.

Bob kept kicking the ablaze Stalkers falling over the gate. He took out ris rifle once again, reloaded it and put a bullet to the distant ones the flames hadn’t caught. Gerard had now enough space to reach for his blade and when he wielded it, he saw Bob getting out by the same hole the infected tried to reach them. He followed Bob just in time to see the guy using his machete, piercing Stalkers in the back and swinging them off the way. “Shoot ‘em, come this way.”

Gerard took the momentum to sway forward and hit his blade on a Stalker’s head and chest, the blood splattering on his limbs, while Bob shot. The woman came back to meet them, flaming infected on her way.

The guy mounted on his horse again and offered Gerard a hand. “Come on, ride with me.”

Gerard took his hand and got up on the horse.

“Kat, let’s go.”

She had a serious face on and stared at Bob for a second before nodding and letting him up on the horse.

They rode and, as another group of Stalkers came from the forest after them, Kat made a turn and shot two of them in the front line. She then sped up to catch up on Gerard and the tattooed guy.

Gerard’s breathing was uneven as he saw, above the guy’s shoulders, the clear path.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me longer than I intended to update, because there's so much in this universe I want to unpack.
> 
> Anyway, Comments and feedbacks are always welcome. You can find me on twitter as @unholy_things


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ achemicalmess](/users/achemicalmess/) not only beta read it, but also made sweet fanart to a scene in this chapter. It's too cute and I love it, thanks so much for this gift <3
> 
> Also thanks to [ charredlipsandsenseofpride](/users/charredlipsandsenseofpride/) and [ glassmotion](/users/glassmotion/) who have to bear with me all the time and who cheer for me. It makes me go forward and I'm lucky to have you.

Gerard clutched the guy’s clothes, feeling as though they could fall any second. The wind rushing through his body was welcome though, as he realized how his skin was sweaty, covered in dirt and blood. He kept looking behind to see if they were being chased, but the infected couldn’t keep up with their speed.

“Shit, that was close.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” the guy shouted to the wind, not taking his eyes off the path ahead. “There might be Stalkers around.”

“I’m Gerard, by the way,” he said into his ear.

The guy didn’t answer straight away, and when he did, it didn’t sound conversational. “Frank.”

Gerard cleared his throat. “Thanks, Frank.”

Frank didn’t answer anymore and they rode in silence until they reached the settlement’s outskirts. Its walls were high and thick, guarded by people at the top of its corners, but there weren't any signs of FEDRA or other factions symbols. Gerard let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

When the gates opened, he couldn’t believe what it looked like inside.

He had so many questions he almost forgot his injury. Frank helped him out of the horse and before he could form understandable sentences, Frank and Kat were whispering in each other’s ears and Kat commanded him, “Come with me.”  
  
She led them to the infirmary. He hissed when moving, the pain coming in throbs, his clothes soaked in blood. Bob helped him walk and Gerard examined the surroundings as much as he could. Both of them kept quiet, only trading confused looks.

The last time he had seen a place as organized as that had been the quarantine zone. However, this didn’t feel like a prison, the way the quarantine zone did. There weren’t war tanks and trucks in sight.

When they got to the infirmary, Bob helped him lay down. Two guys and a woman walked in and before they examined them both, they got frisked and Kat looked inside their backpacks.

“Go ahead,” she confirmed.

Gerard didn't say anything. He could see Bob sitting at the edge of another bed, frowning, though he didn't know if it was because one of the guys was poking at his bruises.

The others examined his hip closely. Gerard had a cloth in his mouth when they took off the arrow remains and stitched him. He wheezed and cried - he just wanted it to be over.

Kat was there the whole time, sitting in a chair with her arms crossed, observing the procedure. “You’re gonna have to be here for a while. You need to rest,” the woman said and Gerard nodded.

When they cleared out, Bob sat next to him. His now cleaner face didn’t match the state of his clothes. Kat walked up, her arms still crossed. “So. What’s your story?”

“We ran into some Hunters. Thought we could take ‘em.”

“Men, always so stupid,” she mumbled. Then louder, “Was that far from the mansion we found you in?”

“Not really, no. But we killed them.”

“You from any faction?”

The question came from Frank, as he entered the room, butting in the conversation like he had been a part of it the whole time.

“No,” Gerard answered this time. “Just survivors.”

“We didn’t get a chance to introduce ourselves. I’m Frank,” he outstretched his arm to Bob. They got another round of name saying before Gerard asked.

“What is here? What faction are you?”

“We’re not any, we’re just a county.”

“Jackson County,” Katherine provided.

“You guys got some structure here,” Bob raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Frank and Kat exchanged looks. “I can show you around when you guys get better.”

Gerard accepted Frank’s offer, but he and Bob spent the night at the infirmary. Gerard had to be observed; Bob was suspicious about leaving the one person he knew, so he just enjoyed a place to rest.

“Once we get back--”

“Get back?” Gerard got to his elbows on the bed, turning to him. “Do you wanna go back?”

“Of course. They just saved our necks, doesn’t mean we get a pass to stay,” Bob furrowed his brow. Gerard bit his lip. He wasn’t going to admit he’d been hoping otherwise. “Anyway, that’s my home. My stuff is in there.”

“Oh.” Gerard’s face fell.

If Bob thought anything upon Gerard's reaction, he didn't say it. Gerard changed subjects right away.

Frank showed up on the following day, reminding them of the tour offer, and they agreed to go. He took them to one of their collective dining halls, to the church and Ray’s. Gerard wouldn’t stop looking at every detail, astonished, and Bob asked questions about how they'd come together and what was their routine. Frank answered everything with a serene face on. As if he guided tourists here everyday. Maybe they did. Gerard just listened. Frank also asked more about them and Bob provided him a summary.

They ended up lunching in the dining hall full of people. A few stared at them, but most didn’t seem to care they didn’t belong there.

“You really wanna go back?” Gerard asked as they left the hall and Frank led the way to the stables, a few feet away.

Bob faltered, clenching his jaw. “So you wanna stay.”

“Yeah, like. If we could. Why wouldn’t we? Don’t you miss… people?”

“No. People betray you. I’m better off alone anyway.”

“Come on, Bob.”

“I’m not having this conversation. If you wanna stay, that’s okay. I'll go back to my house.” Bob said, impatiently. “You know what, I’m heading back to the infirmary.”

He left before Gerard was able to answer back. He pondered on going after him, but from what he had learned about Bob, it didn't seem like a good idea. Frank turned around right this moment, pulling a confused face.

“Where is he going?”

“To the infirmary.” Gerard sighed and walked up to Frank. “I guess he’s upset 'cause he wants back to his farm and I wanna stay. I mean, If I could,” he quickly added, panicking.

Frank remained calm and they resumed their walking, now side by side. “I don’t think there’s any problem with you staying. Maria will talk to you later about it, though.”

Gerard held back a smile and told himself not to get too hopeful. Frank’s voice interrupted his internal dialogue.

“You’d think couples wouldn’t fight in the apocalypse.”

“What? No. We’re not boyfriends,” Gerard laughed bitterly, kicking peebles. “I’m not sure I remember what it's like to have one. Last one I had was back in Jersey.”

“You’ve been to Jersey?”

“I _am_ from Jersey.”

“Fuck no. Me too! What part?”

“Belleville area.”

Frank looked at him as if he had grown two heads.

“Are you shitting me? I’m from that area too.” He blinked. “Well, used to be. Grew up there.”

Their gaze lingered on each other briefly, until they realized they hit the stables.

“Do you think we ran into each other before?”

“I don’t think so,” Frank said when they reached a stall. “I would’ve remembered you.”

Gerard wasn’t sure if Frank was flirting or if he was reading into it, not being used to social interaction anymore. Gerard tried not to give away that he wished he was being hit on.

A horse came to his view and Frank petted it. “This is the true rescue hero. Do you remember him, Cookie? This is Gerard.”

Gerard smiled.

***

On the following day, Frank took Maria to have a conversation with Gerard. He could feel Gerard wanted to stay and Frank wanted him to.

“You’d be more than welcome to stay with us,” she said at some point and Frank held his breath. “The tricky part is we don’t have a spare bed to accommodate you. Our collective shelter is at full capacity.”

Gerard made an “o” with his mouth.

“He can stay with me,” Frank interrupted, trying to seem nonchalant about it. He turned to Gerard. “At least temporarily. I mean, if it’s not a problem.”

Maria gave Frank a questioning look. He knew what her half-opened eyes meant. _You’re going to put a stranger inside your house? We know nothing about him._

He tried answering her with his eyebrows. _It’s gonna be okay, I learned all about intuition with Kat._

“That would be very kind of you, Frank. But I don’t wanna be a burden,” Gerard hugged himself. “What about the infirmary, can’t I stay here? For a while?”

“No, Gerard--”

“You could try, if you think you could handle the movement. We don’t have much more than this space and more often than not we bring bruised people or conduct medical procedures, you know.”

“Come on,” Frank tried again. “why would you stay here if you could be somewhere quieter? That makes no sense. I’m telling you, it wouldn’t be a problem, having you. You could use my couch.”

Gerard gave him a little smile.

“Okay, if you say so. I promise I’ll be out of your way as much as I can.”

Bob had been out to the stables during that conversation. When he returned, Frank wasn’t sure if he was upset, the guy was so serious all the time. Bob put his backpack over his shoulder, saying his goodbyes. He and Gerard shared a tight hug and wished each other good luck. Gerard looked distressed too, sad even.

When Frank insisted he didn’t understand why Bob was leaving, Gerard brushed upon Bob's untold details, as if he wanted Frank to understand his side.

“Well, if he wants that, what can we do.”

“I know. I still feel shitty.” Gerard said, scratching his neck.

“Maybe he will come back, who knows." There was a pause in which Frank could hear Gerard thinking. "Come on. We didn’t finish our tour.”

Gerard didn’t seem to mind the change of subject. “Where are you taking me?”

“A real special place.”

Frank decided he felt comfortable around Gerard. He figured it was because, being from Jersey, Gerard reminded Frank of his old home. Frank would look at him every once in a while and search in the back of his mind for any signs they had met before.

He was frustrated he couldn’t remember, or frustrated they didn’t meet prior to all of this - he couldn't tell which.

Frank took him to the greenhouse and was pleased to see Gerard bury his face in the nearest plants. Frank observed as his eyes fluttered shut and he took a deep breath, the plants caressing his cheeks. Frank’s mind went places, until it hit him - he was taking Gerard to his house. And that’s exactly what he did next.

As they strolled to his place, Frank opening up about how he had never sown before getting to Jackson, they walked past their small cemetery. Almost immediately, Gerard detached from the conversation.

Frank watched Gerard march to the few graves they had. He stood still near the entrance, looking down at them, hiding behind his hair.

Frank didn’t say a word when he reached him, hands in his pockets. The only sound around them was from distant voices and tree leaves shuffling.

“I’ve always hated funerals. Service was the worst part. So much sorrow wasted,” he rubbed his eye. “Then the contamination came and I started missing things I hated. Like funerals. I began seeing the beauty in it.” He paused, clearing his throat. “When my parents died and my brother died, the only thing I wanted was to bury them. Have a place to leave flowers every once in a while.”

Frank nodded, swallowing hard. Those words could have come out of his mouth.

“The worst part is that my brother got contaminated. That is something you would expect, right? 60% of the population got infected. We’re lucky we haven’t. But my parents were killed by motherfucking _humans_. Motherfucking Fireflies. With all their speech about being the light in the darkness.” Gerard snorted. “We’re down by half and we still kill each other. We’re so doomed.”

Frank gulped. Gerard kept staring at the floor.

“I’m venting, aren’t I?”

“It’s okay.” Frank bumped lightly on Gerard's arms. “I’m sorry you’ve gone through all of that.”

His pained voice made Frank desire he could assure Gerard everything would be better now. He’d be safe. There was no way he could keep that promise, though.

“Maybe we could make them a service sometime,” Frank blurted.

He regretted saying that as fast as they words came out of his mouth, but Gerard’s eyes sparked when they met Frank's.

“That would be sweet.”

Frank smiled from seeing his hazel eyes glisten.

“Come on, let me show you my place.”

The rest of the route was done in silence. The air got lighter when they hit Frank’s porch.

Frank watched Gerard’s reaction as he entered his first house within the county. His mouth hung open a little. Cute, Frank said to himself. He had forgotten how this could be overwhelming to someone who’d spent so much time outside.

“The Misfits!” Gerard alarmed, pointing to the poster on the wall. Frank’s heart made a funny move inside his chest. Gerard briefly scanned his one-bedroom, since no walls separated the spaces. “God, your house is amazing. Can I?” He gestured.

“Of course. There's not much to see, though.”

Gerard shrugged, pacing and examining decoration. Frank sat on the couch, cracking a window open and making himself a tobacco cigarette. “Do you mind?”

“Dude, it's your house. You don't have to ask me that.”

Gerard read the posters plastered on the walls, making remarks about either the bands or movies displayed. He looked at the stereo, being worked on in Frank's working station and touched his vinyls, a starstruck look on his face.

“Bring 'em here,” Frank requested with a cigarette cramped in the corner of his mouth. Gerard did so.

They spread the vinyls on his living room floor and talked about music and artists they were into. Black Flag, Misfits, Descendants. And also David Bowie, Iggy Pop and Queen. Frank went on about how he had dreamed of being a rock star because some of those artists and learned Gerard had fantasized about something similar. “But I couldn’t play a guitar to save my life,” he added and Frank refrained from offering him personal classes.

They had attended a similar Jersey music scene at some point and Frank couldn't believe they hadn't come across each other. Gerard couldn't talk about music without mentioning his brother again and, from what he described, Frank was almost sure he had met Mikey.

Gerard even showed Frank the pins he had in his backpack.

After this gray, heavy cloud of information had poured over them in the living room, they got quiet again. Frank started rolling another one, Gerard leaning on the other end of the couch, checking out all the details to the vinyl cover in his lap.

Frank was halfway through his cigarette, desiring he could put some music on, when Gerard broke it by asking in a small voice, “Can we see Cookie again?”

  
  


***

Frank gave Gerard much more space than he needed in his wardrobe.

Gerard only had a backpack with few pieces of clothing. Maria had come over and given him a bunch of donated clothes. Some of them were large, but overall they fit well. He was glad Frank was out to the stables and couldn’t see how ridiculous some of them had looked in him.

Maria also brought a thermos with tea and they sat on the porch while Gerard told her personal stuff he had told Frank previously. He didn’t share with her as much as he did with Frank, though. Tommy also came over and took a look on the wound. He shared some tips on how to take care of it and said Gerard should come forward if recovery wasn’t going as planned.

“I can't thank you enough for letting me stay.” Gerard contemplated the mug in his own hand, then looked back at them. “I had heard about places like this, but I thought they were just a rumour. How can I ever pay you back?”

Tommy and Maria smiled at each other.

“You get some rest, boy,” Tommy said, even though he wasn't _that_ older. “We'll figure it out. But you need to recover first.”

They invited him to church services that night. After mass, they would be setting up a bonfire. Gerard wasn't a catholic person, but it didn’t seem polite to turn in down.

“Nobody's kicking you out if you don't go,” Frank snickered later, after coming out of the shower. His body was still wet and he only had a towel wrapped around his waist. Gerard turned to the stereo, pretending he was fixing it. “People don't care about that shit, a bunch here aren't even catholics. Take Agnes for example - you're gonna meet her, she's always by the greenhouse. I think she's a witch, and sometimes she even attends the church. And everybody loves her.” Gerard hummed. “You’ll be okay.”

Gerard nodded. He learned Frank was raised a catholic but wasn't a fan of going to the church either. Weirdly, for a second there, he worried about being a sinner just because he wasn’t religious anymore. Gerard couldn’t remember the last time he had worried about religion.

“We should go anyway. People will get familiar with your face and I can tell you the _hottest_ gossip around. So much to fill you in,” Frank declared, changing clothes in front of him like it was nothing. Gerard wasn’t looking, but his ears burned. “The bonfire afterwards is always nice too.”

Gerard also took a shower. The cold water calmed him down, and he also cleaned like never before, concerned with looking presentable and being accepted by the community. He spent so much time in there Frank yelled they were going to run out of water and then he'd have to kick Gerard out of Jackson.

When he was drying himself, he caught sight of the Star Wars action figures on the cabinet. Gerard smiled to himself.

Mass was uneventful but Gerard felt thrown back to his childhood years, when he'd attend those with his grandmother every other Sunday.

Some people looked at him curiously, but none approached him and Frank until they were at the bonfire. Around the flames, there were people singing and playing songs, and kids play tag in the background. Frank discreetly pointed and said various names, the ones from people he thought were interesting enough Gerard should remember.

Katherine showed up by their side at some point and was very talkative this time around. She and Frank introduced him to a few people - Laura, Jepha, Adam. They all welcomed him and heard his short monologue on how he got there. They also shared other escaping or near death experiences they had on the county’s surroundings or before they got to Jackson. Gerard figured this was as close as he could get from small talking: slashing bodies, setting contaminated on fire, hating on Hunters.

None of them were from New Jersey though, so for the most of it he still stood by Frank's side like he was his people.

***

“Wow, you were fast on getting another boyfriend,” Jepha noted days later, filling buckets of grain alongside Frank.

Frank didn’t answer. In fact, he didn’t say anything until they were out of the warehouse. He was determined to ignore him, but as they pushed the feeding cart towards the barn, it got harder to play oblivious to Jepha staring at him.

“‘The fuck are you on about?” Frank finally asked.

They came to a halt on the first stall and though Jepha turned to empty the bucket of food in front of the horse, Frank could hear him smiling. “You don’t have to pretend, Frank, I know you enough to see what’s going on.”

Frank took the bucket from his hand harder than he intended too. “Enlighten me, please.”

Jepha looked directly at Frank. “So you’re gonna tell me there’s nothing going on?”

Frank’s only answer was to get the cart handle and start walking again, moving on to the next stall.

“ _See._ ”

“Are you jealous or something?” Frank looked around, making sure nobody was listening to them. Suddenly he was worried Gerard could be summoned just by thinking of him.

“I’m not,” Jepha laughed. “I swear I’m not. But it’s unbelievable.”

“You're way ahead, Jepha. I never said anything.”

Frank concentrated on the task at hand and not on wondering what made Jepha jump to these conclusions. He wouldn’t like to think it was written all over his face. That could frighten Gerard and the last thing he wanted was to be seen as a weirdo. If nothing happened between them, he would like to at least keep him as a friend.

“You don’t have to. Just be careful, okay? He seems nice and all, but we don’t know him. We don’t know what it means, the fact that his fellow left and he stayed.”

Frank hated that Jepha was usually the reasonable one. He bit back a remark, limiting himself to just gaze at Jepha to confirm he would be careful. Jepha didn’t insist on the subject anymore, getting back to unload seeds for the horses to feed on.

***

Three nights later, Gerard came back from the dining hall and Frank was outside, sitting on the porch.

“‘Night,” he greeted, ready to bore Frank with details about his day. But Frank didn’t answer right away and his face was partially hidden in the dark, so Gerard sat on a chair next to him to try and decipher him before he went on. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Frank moved and light was cast upon him fully.

Frank lit and smoked his cigarette while Gerard gnawed on his nail, deciding not to strike in any conversation. Instead, he took the moment to gaze at the sky. It was clear and cloudless, bright spots sprinkled on the dark veil, the full moon floating.

Halfway through his cigarette, Frank put it away and pulled the guitar next to him, sitting it on his lap. He struck some chords, waking Gerard up.

“Any requests?”

Gerard shook his head. Frank’s fingers danced around the guitar strings. After trying guessing songs and realizing he was getting nowhere, Gerard closed his eyes, the sound echoing on the windless porch.

He only opened them again when Frank stopped playing to take another drag of his cigarette.

"I heard you the other night,” Frank said, puffing smoke sideways. Gerard’s brow furrowed. “While you were asleep. You have nightmares that often?”

Gerard stared at his feet. “Ever since I had to kill my brother.”

Frank coughed and put out his cigarette. Gerard patted his back and went on, “He asked me not to let him turn completely.”

Frank’s mouth was slightly agape. “Shit. That… yeah, that explains it. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Gerard didn’t want this to become a pity party. “I’m not sure, I kinda got used to it. But I’m gonna ask Agnes if she has a sleeping potion or something for me,” They grinned to each other. “Sorry you’ve been missing sleep because of me.”

Frank sneered and it turned into another coughing fit.

“Don’t worry about that.”

Gerard smiled back at him. Frank broke the eye contact to adjust his strings and start playing again. As he kept fooling around with the instrument, Gerard felt allowed to observe his tattooed hand moving quickly, his black hair falling over his face. Gerard almost felt jealous of how effortless it seemed, his fingers sliding through the guitar as if he was touching another part of his body.

Frank finally started a song he recognized, one that talked about how time got you by the wrist and took you places. Gerard listened to it and stared ahead, at the lights of other houses, before he gave in and sang along in a low voice.

As the song progressed, he realized Frank was turning towards him. Gerard didn’t do the same though - it already felt like he was being serenaded and he didn’t know what he’d do with Frank’s voice reverberating at him fully. Only when the music ended, he averted to Frank again and he was smiling his way. Gerard’s face got warm.

“Do you ever get lonely here?”

Frank blinked at him, leaning against the guitar. “Yeah.”

Gerard huffed. “Even surrounded by people?”

“Even surrounded by people.” Frank paused, and put his guitar to the side of his chair. “It’s the feeling of being trapped.”

Gerad nodded. “Yeah. Like we’re always on the run.”

“Yes. We built these walls and we feel safe behind them. But to be honest, it’s like I’m constantly waiting for shit to go down. For everything to be ruined.” Frank’s voice was barely above a whisper, and Gerard leaned in his direction a little. “I don’t usually say that to anyone - maybe Kat or Ray - because it’s hard enough without me reminding people how hard this all is.”

Gerard nodded again, unable to find words to soothe him.

“You, for instance,” and Gerard tilted his head. “It might have been dumb of me to bring you here _and_ for sheltering you in my house.” Gerard wanted to be offended, but he knew he was right.

“I can always leave,” he said, lightly.

Frank threw his head back.

“No, come on. I’m just saying, we’re always taking these chances and having to trust to survive. Every night when I go to bed, I’m betting you won’t slash me through my sleep. We have to jump in the dark, otherwise we can’t build anything. Jackson wouldn’t be here if people inside didn’t take chances.”

Gerard picked up on a chipped piece of wood on the arm of the chair, “You’re right.”

“Plus, you’re a heavy sleeper, so I’m cool.” Frank laughed and then trailed off. “But seriously. I’ll be so mad if…”

“If what?”

“I don’t know.” It was Frank’s turn to lean forward, examining Gerard. Somehow his eyes seemed bigger on that lightning. “If I’m wrong about you.”

Gerard wasn’t sure what he meant. “I promise you you didn’t make a mistake bringing me here. I’m grateful for it.”

Their eyes locked. Frank smiled at him and Gerard mirrored it.

Then Frank turned and brought his guitar back to his lap.

Frank played another song, and this one Gerard didn’t know, so he just observed him. He wished he had something to do with his hands to distract him from Frank’s muscles flexing and his imagination taking him to places where Frank’s fingers were occupied with something else.

The next song Frank played was one that used to be on one of his father’s tapes. One Don would put on in their family road trips.

Gerard played with the arm of his chair again, blinking the memory to the back of his mind the most he could. He didn’t feel like singing this one, but he also didn’t want to hang on the lyrics, so he concentrated on Frank’s voice coming at him like waves.

His limbs relaxed against the chair and he kind of wished he could sleep on the spot. He wished a lullaby to drift him to dreamless nights, ones he wouldn’t wake up sweaty or tearful. So he wouldn’t wake up just as tired as he had gone to sleep.

He couldn’t have a lullaby, but an idea occurred to him - something he could try for himself before asking Agnes to work her mojo on him.

“Do you think. Um, do you think we could make my brother a service tomorrow, in the cemetery?” Gerard asked, wrinkling his nose, after the song was finished.

Frank blinked at him, his voice cautious, “Sure, let’s do it.”

Gerard didn’t have the best sleep that night, just like he hadn’t had in a while, but his recurring nightmares were a bit foggier this time.

When he woke up the next morning, he couldn’t believe it was raining. Not when they had such a clear sky the night before. It was now fully gray-ish, without any signs the sun would burst through the thick clouds. This had to be one movie trope he wished he didn’t live - funerals in the rain.

Apart from that, it wouldn’t be like in the movies he used to watch anyway. Frank had told him the night before people in Jackson started a tradition for services like that - for people that never returned or who had been infected. They would gather and tie or hang something from the honoured person in the oldest tree in the cemetery, the Tree of the Dead. It became their shrine.

In the morning, Frank asked if he wanted to postpone it, but knowing there would be less people outside, as they would all be cozy in their homes, made Gerard more comfortable with the idea.

Frank looked sleepy, rubbing his eyes and yawning every now and then. “It’s harder to get out of the bed in the cold,” Frank offered and Gerard tried not to imagine he would also have trouble getting out of the bed. If Frank was in it.

He shook his head and sighed. “Shall we?”

They zipped their jackets and Frank took them under a large umbrella. They walked in silence, raindrops collapsing on the fabric above their heads, their boots on the floor and their uneven breathing next to each other.

Their proximity allowed Gerard to take a look at Frank’s face without being too obvious, or so he thought. Frank’s long hair was kind of all over the place and Gerard felt compelled to put it behind his ears.

“Oh god, I’m so sleepy,” Frank interrupted his thoughts, yawning again.

“So you’re admitting it now. Here, let me take this,” he offered to take the umbrella as Frank yawned one more time and used both hands to hide his face from the wind. He was mildly shivering.

Their fingers brushed together when Gerard took it.

“You sure that’s not my fault?”

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

If Gerard wanted to keep him awake, he’d better change subjects.

“What do you think I’m gonna do here once my hip heals?”

Frank scanned his face, like he was HR on Jackson’s duties. “I don’t know, what would you like to do?”

“Patrolling would be nice. Cooking too, I guess, if they needed a hand. Or helping in the greenhouse,” Gerard shrugged.

Frank smiled. “I don’t think you would be patrolling so soon. You’re a rookie and you just got injured.”

“Hey, I survived for a long time by myself. That should mean something, right?” Gerard bumped into Frank, teasingly. “If you handle me a flamethrower, I’ll be unstoppable.”

“I’m sure you will.” Frank laughed, raising his hand in defeat. “They will probably put you on something safer first. We can't risk you barely getting here and then dying. Or getting injured,” he added fast.

“Good to know how you sort your priorities.”

They passed a few people on their way to the cemetery, nodding them good morning. They arrived at its entrance minutes later and halted right before it. Gerard took a deep breath, and Frank waited patiently beside him.

The cemetery itself had small wooden fences around it. The space was bigger than the playground kids had, but it wasn’t filled with many graves. The graves were scattered here and there, and the floor was covered in leaves from the trees. They walked among named plaques and puddles of terrain, Frank leading them to the Tree.

Gerard inspected the whole of it from where he was standing. It was a tall tree and there were things hanging in its branches just as there were things pinned to its stem. Garlands, necklaces, ribbons, wrecked pieces of paper with run down ink. A stretched rope had two stained photographs attached to it, both from kids. Gerard’s mouth went dry. The Tree felt bigger on him.

He looked at Frank, who stared back at him, chewing on his lower lip. The raindrops hitting against the umbrella got heavier.

Gerard put his hand in his back pocket and took off the Radiohead pin that had previously been on his backpack. He studied at the pin resting on the palm of his hand, caressing it.

Music had been such a big part of their relationship. Especially during the teen years, where they would go on and off about whether they wanted to be around each other or not, music was what kept them glued. It was their treaty point whenever they had arguments on any other aspects in their lives.

Their mother would complain about the mixtapes they left laying around their house and his father never got to know the dozen shows they attended without his permission. They had shared a bedroom at some point with its walls plastered with bands and movie posters.

Behind his lids, Gerard could see them again - the magazines, the t-shirts, the pins. The memory of them in a music shop, showing each other cd cases and hiding them on the furthest part of the stack line, to come back and get it some other time when they had more money. The way Mikey would listen to records from their grandma nonstop when she passed away.

And how they left it all behind one day, to live in the quarantine zone.

Gerard’s cheeks were wet. He was mildly aware of Frank beside him, but he was running his tattooed hand on the tree, apparently lost in thoughts as well. Gerard handed the umbrella back to Frank and walked to a blue ribbon that was dancing in the wind.

Raindrops sprayed on him and he clicked the pin on the piece of fabric.

He took a step back, and there was Frank sheltering them again. They both looked at the pin trembling on the hanging ribbon for a moment. The knot on the pit of Gerard’s stomach began to untie.

The branches shook with the wind, and they observed their moves. Gerard wondered how long the tree must have been there and how much it had seen.

“Ma is here as well,” Frank said in a small voice. Gerard had no idea how long they had been silent.

“Show me.”

They took a few steps and Frank pointed to a bracelet hanging on a green ribbon. Gerard looked at the colorful beads and tried to imagine the woman who wore it, the one who had raised Frank. Without a word, Gerard turned and buried his face on Frank’s shoulder. Frank still held the umbrella up, even though he was wet and was ruining Frank’s clothes now. Frank didn’t seem to mind.

“They’re here,” Frank said into his hair, sniffing. “And they’re proud of us.”

Gerard nodded, not letting him go. The wind whistled and the Tree shook above them.

***

Frank had been on and off about how he felt towards Gerard. At first, he thought maybe there was a brotherly feeling -- he had gone through so much Frank felt the need to protect him. Frank had been through his fair share also, but he never had to stab a loved one.

Then he felt this constant need of being around him physically. Gerard moved in, which was his idea, sure, because Frank liked putting himself in misery and having it the hard way. He’d go to sleep thinking about inviting Gerard to his bed. Or joining him on the small couch.

Frank would avert his eyes everytime he could peek a bit of Gerard’s intimacy -- his bare skin, his smiles that wrinkled his face, him looking at the vinyls or singing while trying to fix the stereo. Living together, it was difficult not to indulge in it.

Frank started finding excuses for them to touch. It started with the duty of changing bandages for his hip bruise, which was getting better by the day. Then they would peek at the stereo together, Gerard screwing things here and there and Frank telling him he was wrong, being so close Frank could smell his cologne. One day, after patrolling, he had the nerve to ask Gerard for a massage because his shoulder was aching, to which Gerard promptly agreed.

“You have the godliest hands,” Frank moaned, his head rolling to the front.

“You have the tensest shoulder,” Gerard replied, sinking his fingers in a difficult spot.

“It’s from worrying about protecting you,” Frank paused with a muffled sound. “You know, Jackson.”

“Yeah. Makes sense.”

Frank didn’t tell anyone about what he was feeling, not after being caught up redhanded with Jepha’s approach. He wouldn’t know what to say anyway and saying it out loud would probably jinx it or he would fool himself into thinking this could develop into something.

Gerard started working by the greenhouse every other day and Frank would go there way less than he used to, especially after seeing how Gerard took care of it. He felt like a parent handing his kid to a good caregiver. He would still go once in a while, after all he still felt great being there, like he was in another dimension.

He had been embarrassed though, because once they came across Agnes and when they both had worked together to give her the herbs she asked, she had just said “Oh, look at you,” in a mysterious tone. They looked at each other and a confused laugh escaped from Frank’s mouth, like “Look at this old lady, she’s _nuts_.” Gerard didn’t answer anything.

Then there was this night where Frank woke up to the low sound of a cry. He turned on the lamp, silently praying to all saints and saying his sorry for not being in mass so often, when he realized the sound came from Gerard.

Frank rubbed his eyes to make out his figure on the couch, unsure whether he was awake or not. Gerard was fast asleep on the couch, a pillow underneath his head and covered in a thick blanket. Though Frank couldn’t see much of his face, he could hear the small noises his mouth produced. Gerard used to have nightmares, but today he was especially loud.

As Frank marched to the couch, he realized how his arms and torso seemed tense. He wondered if that was sleep paralysis, something he’d experienced before but had never seen from the outside. If he had to guess, he’d say it looked like this. He knelt beside Gerard, poking him and calling his name. Gerard jumped when he woke up, clutching the blanket.

“You were having another nightmare,” Frank explained, Gerard still trembling. He rubbed his hand on Gerard’s shoulder. “It’s okay now, you’re safe.”

“It’s the night terrors. I don’t wanna go sleep again,” he said, as if Frank was going to make him.

“It’s okay. I think I have some tea in my thermos, do you want some?”

“No… yeah, no.”

Gerard fully sat down, but wouldn’t let go of the blanket. Frank kept knelt down, his hand having slipped to Gerard’s leg now.

“I know you don’t want to sleep, but being awake will do nothing for you. Some tea will calm your nerves.” Gerard thought for a while, then nodded. “Good, I’ll get you some.”

Frank brought the tea in no time, and as Gerard sipped, he offered. “I think you should sleep on the bed today. You’ll get a better rest.”

“No, it’s _your_ bed and you have to rest from patrolling,” Gerard put the cup down. “I told you I wouldn’t get in the way.”

“It’s okay, really-”

“Frank, I mean it. I’m not making you sleep on the couch.”

“Then,” he said, not giving his brain time to hold his tongue back. “we can share the bed. It’s big enough for both of us. I mean, if you don’t mind.” He said it all in almost one breath, afraid of how Gerard would take it. He was almost offering to make a pillow wall between them just to make him comfortable when Gerard finally answered.

“You really okay with that? I’m not sure, I don’t want to-”

“Get in the way, yeah, you’ve said it before. But you need to rest and so do I. The bed is big for us. We get our sleep and if I notice you’re having nightmares again, I can wake you up.”

“Okay, then,” Gerard said around his mug. “Thank you so much.”

As they tucked themselves in, Frank took his role very seriously. It would be like patrolling.

He watched as Gerard closed his eyes and the light outside peeked through the window, illuminating his hair and his face lightly. Before turning off his lamp, Frank took a rebel strand of hair off his face, but Gerard didn’t move.

Gerard fell asleep and Frank only allowed himself to do the same after his breathing was even.

On the following days, it became a habit of them to share the bed. Frank wouldn’t call it “sleep together”, because he would always slump after Gerard, making sure he wasn’t being chased by his recurring nightmares of his brother becoming a monster. Frank knew that if Jepha saw it, he would say it otherwise.

One night, though, Frank was startled to realize he woke up with his arm around Gerard’s waist. He didn’t know how it happened. He was embracing Gerard, faces inwards, inches apart from one another.

Frank was planning on how to move away without waking him up, when Gerard’s eyelids fluttered open, slouchy.

Frank’s guts turned cold with panic, but his body wasn’t awake enough to respond to his brain’s order. He was ready to be punched in the face - with reason - and for Gerard to yell at him for being innapropriate. He would get out of the house and tell Maria all about it and Frank would be embarrassed until the end of times.

Frank thought all of this in the three seconds it took Gerard to lazily scan his face and meet his eyes. “ _G’morning_ ,” he said, his voice estranged.

Frank tensed - Gerard hadn’t realized it. As he retrieved his arm furtively, Gerard actually drew closer, making him gasp. Gerard sure could smell his morning breath.

Gerard's sleepy eyes scanned his face before he lunged forward and planted a kiss in his lips.

***

Gerard had been waiting for the opportunity. He had accepted that there was sexual tension hanging in the air. It wasn’t there all the time, but for the most part of it.

At first he thought it was just in his mind or he was projecting, but he noticed how Frank would try and get closer, and Gerard himself was always around him too when they were in the house.

Outside of it, they wouldn’t be in each other’s space all the time, but it would still happen. If he was honest, Gerard had to force himself to talk to more than one person on bigger social occasions. For too long, he had shared only with one person at a time - mostly, it had been Mikey, then there was Bob. If he didn’t try, he would only talk to Frank, but he didn’t want to smother him with his lack of social skills.

Frank was, after all, the person who had saved him. Katherine had been there too, and she was friendly to him, but he hadn’t clicked with her the way he had with Frank. After Bob left Jackson, Frank was the one who had helped him the most, trying to make him adjust to it, and feel welcome and safe.  
  
Plus, Gerard couldn’t remember the last time he had the attention of someone as pretty as him. Gerard wanted to bury his face on his shoulders; Frank also had this catchy smile and his eyes were often so bright.

So when Frank invited him to sleep together for the first time, Gerard knew he was earnestly trying to help him one more time. But Gerard took it as his cue. He wasn’t one to try a move on anyone if there was a possibility of rejection, and he was 90% sure this wasn’t unrequited. If it was, then he was reading everything wrong.

Like Frank had said - they had to take chances.

The night he woke up in the dawn and felt Frank’s warmth as he embraced him, Gerard felt that was right. Then, the obvious thing to do was for him to take the next step and kiss Frank.

When they broke apart from each other, Frank’s eyebrows were shot up, but there was also a hint of smile in his lips. “Good morning,” he offered, voice less sure than Gerard’s.

Gerard smirked, shrinking in the sheets. “‘Been meaning to do this for a long time.”

Frank still looked puzzled. His hand then cupped Gerard’s face and he stared at Gerard for a second before kissing him back.

This one was deeper, Frank leaning over, Gerard nesting himself under his body. He embraced Frank as well, his hands travelling to the small of his back and snaking under the shirt he was wearing, the one Gerard prayed silently every night he would forget to put on.

Frank pinned him down and they kissed slowly, Gerard’s fingers splashed on his back.

Gerard moved the blanket to the side, giving Frank more access and brought him closer. This time, he felt the ghost of a hard-on against his thigh. Frank might have realized that also, because he pulled off and attempted to distance himself.

Gerard could see his cheeks getting pink. He didn’t let go, though. “Come here,” he stretched his upper body, kissing his collarbone.

Frank moaned and surrendered, falling back on top of him. This time, Gerard was actively grinding against him, the drowsiness wearing off.

Gerard’s hand traveled down while one of them held Frank, and his fingers played with the hem of his sweatpants, waiting for a sign to advance. Frank rubbed his hard-on on Gerard once again and that was all the sign he needed.

“Ow,” Gerard finally complained from all the body weight brushing over his healing hip.

“Shit, sorry” Frank rolled to the side, and tried to bow down to check on his hip, but Gerard took him by the chin and caught his lips again. After making sure he had his attention again, Gerard’s hand disappeared inside the front part of his pants, now unashamed.

Frank whimpered when Gerard’s fingers laced around his hardening cock. Before he started pumping it up and down, Gerard took off his hand once more and licked his palm the most he could and Frank’s body shivered under his wet touch.

The sunlight was timidly showing up on the window, slowly plastering itself over the room. Gerard’s wrist was moving with no rush, but the room was getting hotter.

Frank twitched when his thumb spread the precome over the head of his dick. He sank his face in the pillow, holding himself on Gerard’s shoulder.

“Fuck, yes,” his voice said next to Gerard’s ear, then gnawing on his earlobe.

Gerard smiled to himself and picked up a rhythm, listening closely to his moans. Frank’s hip snapped every now and then, until he came on his hand and Gerard felt him relax.

When they looked at each other, they were both smiling like idiots.

“‘Morning,” Gerard repeated, leaning on Frank and kissing him. “I heard you were not a morning person.”

Frank fixed his gaze on Gerard.

“This might just change now.”

***

If Frank was honest, he was never going to believe this is what he came home to. Now everytime he went patrolling he couldn't wait to get back and find Gerard either on his porch, stargazing, or in his bed.

“What is happening?” he said one night, when Gerard insisted he closed his eyes while they were still on the porch.

Gerard guided him in and left Frank standing in the middle of the room. “Wait here and don’t open your eyes. I’ll know if you cheat.”

Frank smiled and obeyed. He heard some shuffling around before there was a crisp, a static and then -- _music_. Frank froze, his jaw slacking, and opened his eyes.

“I fixed it!” Gerard lifted his arms up in cheering.

Frank walked up to his working station, Gerard standing right beside the stereo, registering what was happening. Frank knelt in front of it, watching as the disc spun and the needle worked. He looked back at Gerard. “I can’t believe you did it,” he got up and hugged him, then planted a kiss on his lips. “Can’t believe it, that’s fucking incredible, thank you.”

“It was nothing,” Gerard said jokingly, then he embraced Frank again, admitting it had been a hard task. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“And you did. Fuck, we can listen to the records now.”

It had been so long since he felt this warmth of surprise, it seemed like Christmas. He took the stereo to the porch and he and Gerard sat on the floor. They could pretend this was a regular Thursday or something like life pre-contamination used to be.

Gerard chose the David Bowie vinyl and put it on a low volume, as Frank rolled a cigarette for himself, a disbelieving smile splattered on his face. The veil of the night before them, Frank positioned himself beside Gerard. They listened to the low music, background sound as they looked at the stars and talked about aliens, Mars and scary monsters.

Frank leaned his head on Gerard’s shoulder. So maybe there was more to life than just surviving.

  
***

Frank removed Gerard’s belt and pushed him to bed, a devilish smile on his lips. Gerard propped himself up on his elbows, allowing Frank to take off his pants and watching as he knelt between his legs. But Frank wanted to tease, so first he pushed Gerard's shirt up and kissed his belly, leaving a trail of saliva.

Feeling his skin exposed being the only one partly naked, Gerard brought Frank to straddle him, taking off his jacket. Gerard’s hard on nudged on his pants, and they grind on each other, tossing Frank’s shirt aside.

Gerard twisted his body, placing Frank in bed and laying on top of him. He then made his way down, opening his fly and cupping his hard cock. Gerard didn’t hesitate to put it fully in his mouth.

Frank gasped, his back arching, and Gerard’s tongue darted around his length. He sucked and hummed around him, until Frank’s leg twitched. “Fuck me now,” he demanded, breathy, and when Gerard kept licking, he insisted, almost pleading. “Now.”

Gerard was ready to comply, but not without kissing Frank first.

“Lube,” Frank moaned into his mouth.

“Where?” Gerard asked, kissing his chin, his Adam apple.

“Drawer. There.”  
  
Gerard got up and made it to the drawer. He was midway getting the lube, when a shiny thing caught his attention. He blinked to the symbol he knew so well.

Gerard propped the lube on the bedside table and reached for the necklace. A cold wave washed down his body as he brought it closer to his face.

”The fuck is that?” he turned to Frank, the Fireflies pendant hanging on his hand.

Frank sat down, squinting his eyes. Gerard tossed it on his chest.

“ _Are you a fucking Firefly?_ ”

“Um, what? No.” but he instinctively checked if his name and number engraved on one side of the medal was still there, the Firefly symbol on the other.

“It has your name on it.” Gerard stated through gritted teeth, his ears ringing. He started gathering his clothes, putting them on aggressively without looking at Frank. “You never fucking mentioned you were a Firefly. Not during your speech about _trust_. Is this a Firefly settlement?”

Frank cast his necklace aside.“No, Gerard, we’re not--”

Gerard paced to the living room. “Why don’t you have your symbol all up in the walls?”

“Listen. I was a Firefly once, okay? It happened ages ago and I kind of quit it, and no, not everybody here has been one too. Tommy has, but apart from that--”  
  
“Tommy was a Firefly? And Maria too, I guess? Who else killed innocent people also? Ray, Katherine? All these people who _go to mass_ ?”  
  
“Calm down, let me explain it,” Frank said while putting his pants back on.  
  
Gerard pointed a finger to Frank. “You don’t get to tell me to call down. You fucking lied to me. You heard me talking about Fireflies and you listened to it like it had nothing to do with you.”

“I know and I’m sorry! But it’s in the past, Gerard. This life is so far behind me sometimes I barely remember. You gotta believe me.”

Gerard stared at him, his jaw tightened.

“Then why do you still have your souvenir? You were a fucking soldier. You killed innocent people, didn’t you?”

Frank’s eyes narrowed. “At this point, we all had our fair share of doing questionable stuff.”

“ _I_ never did that. People like you killed my parents.”

“The Hunters you killed had relatives, too, Gerard. They might have been someone else’s parents. You told me your father was part of FEDRA, it’s not like they weren’t innocent angels.”

Gerard flinched at Frank’s words and so did Frank, a beat later.  
  
“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”

“Yes, it was.”

Gerard turned his back on him and left the house.

  
  


***

Frank stared at the pendant lying on the bed, weighing like a thousand corpses, haunting him. He sat on the couch, rubbing his whole face and sighing. This wasn’t at all how he planned this night to end.

Eventually, he went outside and waited on the porch. The house was too heated and it seemed like all objects had grown eyes and were judging him for being a jerk.

Frank knew he should have said something, but he could never find the right moment to slip the information in. He didn’t want to upset Gerard and he didn’t want to be associated with the people who hurt him. He wasn’t lying when he said the Fireflies felt like a distant past.

Frank waited for a whole hour, but Gerard didn’t come back.

He put on his jacket and walked around places he thought he was going to find Gerard. At Ray’s, the greenhouses or the stables, and he was nowhere in sight. Frank figured he didn’t want to be found. Besides, Frank didn’t know what he would say in case he faced Gerard again, right now.

Frank returned to his porch. Maybe it was for the best to wait for him to calm down.

Ultimately, Frank gave up waiting and entered his house. Before getting to bed, he took out a bottle of old scotch he kept hidden on his working station. Frank only had a gulp of it when he had trouble calming his nerves or to get some sleep.

He put it back on its place and then covered himself in the blankets, eyelids heavy. He had no dreams that night, only lots of interruptions. Anything and everything was making him jump back to his wake state.

In the morning, Gerard still hadn’t come back. He wasn’t in the dining hall for breakfast either.

“Morning, sunshine,” Laura sat next to him. “You look like shit.”

“Right back at you,” It wasn’t true, but his mouth had will of its own.

Frank put a spoonful of oatmeal in his mouth when Laura continued, unshaken. “Listen, I got a task and I would like you to do it with me.”

Frank nodded for her to go on.

“We gotta go to Salt Lake City and get medical supplies. I would get Jepha or Will to go with me, but they’re busy.”

Frank scanned the room quickly looking for Gerard again. “Count me in.”  
  
“Are you listening to me anyway?”

He dropped his spoon and turned to Laura. “Yeah, yeah. We’re gonna grab supplies. I’m your third option. I’m in.”

***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback are always appreciated. Also leave loads of love to [ achemicalmess](/users/achemicalmess/) <3

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Twitter as @unholy_things ;)


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